


Show Me the Real You

by Quilna



Category: The Glass Scientists (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Enemies to Friends, Escapism, Fluff and Angst, Hallucinations, Identity Issues, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Loss of Identity, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Missing Persons, Non-Explicit Nudity, Self-Hatred, Temporary Amnesia, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 64,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22083283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quilna/pseuds/Quilna
Summary: The exhibition is a failure and everything Jekyll worked for is ruined. In a moment of weakness, Jekyll decides to alter his potion to allow him to turn into Hyde permanently. An act with unexpected side effects.Lanyon doesn't know where Jekyll is but he's certain Hyde knows something. All he needs to do is hide Jekyll's assistant from the police and wring the information out of him.Just one problem.Hyde doesn't remember Henry Jekyll at all.
Relationships: Dr. Henry Jekyll/Dr. Robert Lanyon, Edward Hyde/Dr. Robert Lanyon
Comments: 221
Kudos: 374





	1. Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr Jekyll makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning this chapter for vomiting, hallucinations, blood, mild body horror and implied suicide.

It was a slow, winding trail that Henry took to get back to his office.

His feet dragged, eyes fixed on the floor. He counted the cracks and tiles, lost count and recounted again. It didn’t matter if he lost count, it was just a distraction anyway to take his mind off everything.

Not that it was working very well.

Illusionary puddles of blood and gore spilled across the floor before his eyes, something that would have set him to panicking only a few days before. By now, however, it simply got in the way of his counting, nothing more, nothing less.

Feeling fear took energy that he simply didn’t have anymore. It required him to care about something and he was too drained out for that.

The exhibition had come and, after all the planning and effort he had put into it, nobody had come. The lodgers had all stayed out of it. Even Jasper, seeing that he was the only one, had been too fearful to do the exhibition alone. With a stuttered apology, he had left and Henry was left, wearing his most strained smile yet, to explain to their potential future patrons why the exhibition had been cancelled alongside Robert.

He had wanted to vanish throughout the whole talk, each question landing like a physical blow against him.

Frankenstein had won and there was nothing he could do about it. At some point, he would have to go to her room, see her smug, victorious face and listen to her gloat and throw insults. Just thinking about it, his feet dragged more.

The one single bright side was that the lodgers, in their condemnation of the whole event, had retired to their rooms. If he could hold onto a single hollow victory, it was that he didn't have to worry about his outward image at that time.

No fake smiles. Not right now.

He feared, no matter how hard he tried, any smile he attempted at that time would merely slide off like snow on glass.

It was strange, though, to see the whole society so empty - An echo of what it was going to be soon now that their only financial respite was gone. Those empty rooms tugged painfully at him and he was forced to look back down at the floor and start counting floor tiles again as a distraction.

With a click of his shoes, the squeak of a door, he slipped into his office, closing the door behind him.

He didn’t bother to turn on the light, merely glancing at the thin sunlight outside that trickled through the curtains. Curtains that remained closed, casting the room into gloom.

Alone in the dark, Henry put his back to the door and curled himself into a ball. Fingers trailed through his hair, hesitated a second, then, tangling up in curls of hair, pulled. His eyesight blurred and something wet ran down his cheeks.

The exhibition was expendable, he told himself, there were other chances to build back up, other chances to fix the problem.

...But if the lodgers didn’t help then most of his other chances went exactly the same way. And the lodgers _wouldn’t_ help.

Besides, it wasn’t just that. It was the effort, the blood, sweat and tears that had gone into the exhibition. It was the countless nights of lost sleep, the visions and hallucinations, the time spent helping each and every lodger as he cheerily pointed out things they could do better. It was the memory of the way they used to smile and thank him when he helped, even joke _with_ him rather than _at_ him.

Now he was going to be laughed at for failing – those same people he had done all of this for were going to celebrate his downfall, seeing him as some sort of villain thanks to Frankenstein. Frankenstein, his idol, the person he had looked up to for his Whole. Damned. Life.

Sure, they didn’t know for one second what he had gone through for them. He hadn't told the lodgers the whole truth of their financial situation so it was at least partially his fault. Despite that, there was a nasty, twisting, burning sensation at the thought of how they had abandoned him.

His nose dripped and his tears fell faster and more frequently until a stream poured down his face. Breaths choked and hiccuped with sobs in a throat too tight to breathe properly. The taste of salt burst on his taste buds and his saliva felt thick with mucus.

He curled further into himself and, with a few quiet sniffs, the last of his willpower trickled through his fingers and Jekyll began to howl.

It was something he had been holding in for a while, his feelings, the hurt of his childhood idol treating him like dirt, the loss of his only escape from his stress. Now that he was alone, he screamed at the top of his lungs, a raw and wretched noise that would ruin his whole appearance if anybody heard, the tears and snot down his face messy.

Except he didn’t care anymore – couldn’t care.

He just screamed, screamed and screamed. His nails bit into his legs and his voice quickly grew hoarse and painful. Still he continued, his scream diminishing to a pitiable croak.

It was only once his voice was nothing more than a breath that he stopped, returning to the occasional sob.

Like a child, he rocked back and forth, wallowing in self-pity for a while. Tears dried onto his face in a sticky, salty mess.

His nightmares watched from the gloomy corners of the room, feeling to his weakened state like sorely needed company. Even if they didn’t really exist, he appreciated having them there just so he didn’t feel alone.

Back, forth, back, forth, the ceiling drip, drip, dripping with blood in a quiet pitter patter.

Maybe, he thought, he deserved this. This was his punishment for his rotten personality, for making Hyde. Frankenstein knew it, the lodgers knew it. Lanyon must have known it too but been too nice to ever say.

It was almost amusing. Hyde would usually have a field day with this, taunting and tormenting but he had somehow gone silent. Just this once, Hyde wasn't needed there in order to make Jekyll suffer. If anything, his silence was worse.

The blood continued to spill down the walls, a dozen, hundred eyes staring at him from the red. Unreadable expressions. Judging, perhaps?

Well judge him, they might, but they couldn't make him care any longer.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

He wanted, _wished,_ he could be someone else. Anyone else would do. If they weren’t suffering the same as what he was suffering then it was preferable. If they weren’t called Doctor Jekyll then...

Unbidden, his eyes slid to the transformation potion.

It was inconspicuous, nestled with the rest of his formulas and chemicals. Red and transparent with the occasional bubble rising to the surface. Between the blues and purples and frothing of the other potions he had, it wouldn't stand out unless someone knew what they were looking for.

Once he added the salt, it would be far more obvious that it was more than it seemed.

Someone else. _Someone else._ **Someone else.**

The phrase chimed in his head again and again, tempting.

He could be, couldn't he? He didn't have to be Dr Jekyll.

Hyde may have been a wanted criminal but he was also so careless, so reckless, so childish.

As Hyde, he didn't care. All his feelings about the exhibition would fade into nothing as though it had never been a thing, he could even scoff at the way he had sobbed over it.

In the meanwhile, Jekyll's consciousness could drift down into that comforting darkness. Maybe he could even stay down there.

It wasn't a sensation he had particularly enjoyed in the past – he preferred to experience what was going on, make lists of what would need fixing when he came back.

However, if he didn't come back, there wouldn't be anything he needed to fix later. He would never have to fix anything again.

Fingers twitched.

No... He didn't have to turn back at all, did he..? It wasn't like anyone wanted him around, they all preferred Hyde anyway.

Well, not Lanyon but...

_...Lanyon._

Henry turned away, the start of gnawing guilt building. He couldn't just leave Lanyon, could he?

_"He would be better off without you."_

Hyde's voice was faint, gentle. It was just a nudge in the direction that Hyde wanted, nothing more.

However, Henry knew in his heart that Hyde was right. Lanyon did so much for him that he didn't deserve and Henry only ever responded with lies. Once Robert was rid of Jekyll he would be free of all of it.

Therefore, Jekyll reasoned, this would be the better option for everyone. Nobody would have to put up with him anymore. Either way, he couldn't do anything else to save the society from here and, besides, he was sure they would all find their own ways. They had survived without him once, after all, surely they could do so again.

His fingers twitched again. Longing welling inside him.

Henry looked down at his lap, took a breath and made up his mind.

Nobody needed Dr Jekyll anymore. That persona of his could fade into nothing.

For the last time, his fingers curled around the cool glass of the potion. The salt went in and a familiar luminous green colour permeated through the red, spreading out in a swirl of liquid.

Then he added more.

Jekyll found himself adding more salt than was necessary. In the past, he had experimented with different volumes of salt in the potion and found that, the more that was added, the longer the potion would last until it reached a point where it didn't wear off at all. However, adding any more than that had caused some rather strange problems.

He had stopped those experiments soon after a particularly bad reaction to the potion.

This time he had added more salt than he ever had before. After all, Hyde had never been out for longer than a mere evening before and he couldn't be sure how stable Hyde's form would remain if left out for any longer than that. If this was to last, he needed to ensure that Hyde was in the best position and the salt seemed key to that.

Soon, the red was completely dominated by the green. No more red. No more.

Taking his final breath, he tipped back his head and swallowed. The liquid slid down his throat, a horribly salty taste.

Doctor Jekyll closed his eyes.

  
  


As Lanyon sped down the hallway, his eyes flicking from side to side frantically.

He had suspected for a while now that the failure of the exhibition might be a hard blow to Henry's psyche. Robert had been willing to give up on the exhibition days ago when it became obvious that they would never finish in time but Henry had only become more desperate, as though they could somehow salvage it.

Knowing this, he knew he should have kept a closer eye on Henry. He had even noticed the pained look on Henry's face while they were talking to the last of the visitors and noted in his mind that he needed to speak to Jekyll afterwards.

Despite this, he had made the mistake of taking his eyes off Henry for a second. In that briefest of seconds, Henry was already gone.

It instantly set his alarm bells ringing and he cursed himself for making such a stupid mistake.

As he hurried onward, he passed one or two stray lodgers. They reacted with scorn when he asked if they'd seen Jekyll but none of them had seen a thing which only caused his fear to skyrocket.

Obviously, Lanyon had never really been one for the society. It was a safety hazard in the making and if he wasn't a part of it, he would hate the idea.

But it _was_ Jekyll's project – something he had put hours into and clearly cared about. He wasn't sure how Jekyll would react to the loss of their finances but it couldn't be anything good.

Unfortunately, he wasn't really sure what he could do to help once he found Henry but Robert knew he had to be there by his side, to do whatever he could. Some part of him hissed urgently in his head that Jekyll would do something bad if he wasn't there to stop him and, although his more logical side told him "What's the worst Jekyll could do?", his heart wouldn't stop racing.

Finally, he found himself at Jekyll's office.

His hand was already on the handle as he skidded to a halt, ready to yank it open and rush inside.

Then, he heard the noises and stopped.

In any other situation it would have taken him a second or two to puzzle out what the faint noises through the door were but, at that time, they were precisely the noises he expected to hear.

Crying.

Someone was sniffling, muffled, choked sobs meeting his ears through the door. They were utterly pained sounds and even Lanyon, who prided himself on his emotional detachment, couldn't stop a tremble upon hearing them. A tight grip had wrapped its way around his heart, squeezing it until his breaths were choked.

It was probably Henry.

Could he really just barge into his private moment like that? Would Jekyll want him there?

If Henry was grieving, he might prefer to be left alone. Lanyon could swoop in later to reassure him when he was feeling more up to company. He could bring Rachel as well, get her to make something for him – a cake, perhaps. A cake wasn't exactly a good substitute for the entire society but it was a start and, over time, hopefully Jekyll would move on.

The society had been a lost cause from the start, there was nothing anyone could have done. Henry just needed time to realize that.

Everything was silent barring the quiet weeping of the doctor. There was something wrong about standing there, listening. It felt like eavesdropping on a confession.

Reluctantly, Robert's fingers on the handle loosened, then let go.

He took a step back and stared at the door. The noises were weakening, the sobbing fading to sniffles.

With one last look at the door, he took a deep breath and turned. The sniffles muffled as he walked, getting further and further. Soon, he couldn't hear Henry at all, a suffocating silence left in his wake.

Next, he supposed, he should talk to Rachel, warn her that Henry might be in a bad state when he came out. Then they could go about preparing for-

That was when he heard the scream.

It was an ugly, pained sound, more like an injured animal than a person but he recognized the voice immediately.

"Henry!"

Hesitation abandoned, he ran back to the office and threw open the door so quickly that it slammed against the wall with a resounding bang.

The sight he saw caused him to freeze.

A green fluid was splattered across the floor and a shape was on the floor, heaving up more of the liquid. Jekyll's clothes hung loosely from the person's figure and their body was twisted in a way that seemed unnatural for any human.

There was a sickening crack.

Lanyon ran forward, uncertain what to do. The body clearly wasn't Henry – it was far too small for that – but they were certainly in pain and, potentially, on the verge of death. Technically Robert was a doctor but he had only taken it up to appease his father and, besides, this was _way_ out of his expertise. Had they drank something they shouldn't have? He couldn't imagine anyone would just drink a chemical in a science lab but...

He made up his mind. Hurriedly, he dragged the figure up by the shoulders, apologised to them and forced their mouth open – something that took a lot of struggling and nearly getting bitten.

With just a moment of disgusted hesitation, he shoved his fingers down the person's throat.

There was a horrendous choking noise, then, the figure threw up. Lanyon only just managed to remove his fingers but his shoes weren't so lucky. He screwed up his face, fighting the urge to throw up himself.

On the bright side, the person seemed a lot better. He was still coughing up drops of green fluid but his body had stopped convulsing. Wide red eyes stared at Robert with the desperation of a dying man.

Then, those eyes rolled in their sockets and the man toppled over landing on the floor with a heavy thud that was sure to leave a bruise later.

Lanyon was panting and he practically fell against the wall as he caught his breath. The adrenaline was quickly wearing off, leaving him exhausted but able to think more carefully about whatever he had just walked into.

What he _did_ know was that he had heard Jekyll scream just before all of this and he was quite certain that this was the room it had come from. However, his friend was nowhere in sight.

On the other hand, the strange man on the floor was wearing Jekyll's clothes and would have been in the room when that scream had happened. Whatever was going on, this man had to know something.

Frowning, he took in the man's appearance.

The stranger had long, straggly blonde hair and was quite short in stature. His limbs were gangly and pale in a way that suggested that they didn't see the sun all that often.

There was also something visually displeasing about him. It wasn't just the green fluid plastering his hair to his face or the very unflattering way he had fallen unconscious. It was more of some indescribable flaw in his appearance that caused Lanyon's skin to crawl just looking at him. Gripped in his fingers was an empty beaker, still containing a green residue. The chemical, Lanyon assumed, which had caused this.

Lanyon recognized the description from other people.

This must have been Edward Hyde, the man he had been looking for.

The bad news was that Hyde was a wanted criminal. If anyone found out that he was there, Hyde would be arrested and Lanyon wouldn't find out what he knew.

In a last ditch effort, he scoured the room from top to bottom but, despite what he had heard, Jekyll wasn't anywhere to be found. There wasn't even the merest trace of him.

Lanyon squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. He couldn't believe what he was about to do.

With that, Lanyon carefully lifted Hyde, surprised at the man's lightness, and carried him out. It took a lot of dodging people but, with the failed exhibition, the society was quite devoid of activity.

Once he was outside, he got into a carriage under the ruse of taking his drunk friend back home.

There was the clatter of hooves, the crack of a whip and Lanyon and Hyde were off, heading for Lanyon's house.

Lanyon's eyes lingered on the knot of hair and limbs in the seat next to him.

He really hoped he was making the right call.

  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... This was supposed to be a oneshot where Jekyll turns into Hyde, refuses to change back and refuses to acknowledge that he's Jekyll at all, forcing Lanyon to remind him who he really is in a much angrier version of the usual trope.  
> Then I just kind of wanted to write an introduction of how the situation came about and found that I didn't want to do the "Lanyon walks in on the transformation" reveal. Long story short, I had a beginning and end but neither matched up and I couldn't satisfyingly match them up in a single short oneshot.  
> So now this is a multiple chapter fanfic, I don't know where this is going or if I'm ever going to use the intended original scene. I'm just winging this so it's going to full of so many plot holes.


	2. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyde doesn't know Lanyon, Lanyon doesn't know Hyde. Everything's just kind of a bit awkward.

Hyde was drowning.

All around him was a sea of green, red and black and every attempt to breathe only caused a rush of suffocating liquid in his throat and mouth but, despite this, his need to breathe caused him to involuntarily gasp for air. Thrashing, he struggled against it, trying to find some precious air while his body burned with agonizing pain, making every nerve scream.

His skull, his whole body, felt like it was splitting in two – It hurt to think, it hurt to remember, it hurt, it hurt, IT HURT.

Images flashed in his mind, too fast to understand but each dredging up emotions he struggled to name. All of the emotions hurt though, just like everything else, tears welling up in his eyes, salt stinging.

He wanted to scream, wished he could, but there was too much liquid in his lungs. God, couldn't someone help? Anyone?!

As if something had heard his internal pleas, something gripped his chin hard, lighting up his nerves with more pain and panic. Hyde lashed out against it, trying to pull away.

The thing wrestled with him, fingers being forced between his lips, prising his mouth open with Hyde helpless to stop it no matter how much he bit and kicked. Fluid filled his mouth and he choked on it, tears of fear welling in his eyes. The fingers quested deeper and Hyde whined in the back of his throat, the whine turning to a choked gurgle.

This was it. He was going to die. He was going to suffocate, tormented by some unknown creature.

He had lived a good life... Probably.

Memory was a little hazy, taking second place to the shrieking pain in his head.

Then the fingers went too far. Hyde gagged and then, with a choke, threw up.

Just like that, the drowning sensation was gone. Hyde opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of a man before him. Familiar. _Familiar._

_...Who is he?_

_...Right, Lanyon... How could I... Forget..?_

_...Oh God, Lanyon, what have I done to you..? No, please, don't look so scared, I don't deserve your concern, not after I tried to leave you like that. It's my fault. I promise I won't do it again._

_...What... What was Lanyon's first name again..?_

_...I can't... I can't remember..?_

_...God, please, no. Don't tell me..? Did I..?_

_I don't want to forget. I don't want to go! I know what I wanted before but I was stupid and I wasn't thinking straight and – PLEASE, I DON'T WANT TO FORGET! I CAN'T FORGET!_

_My name is Henry Jekyll,_ _ **remember**_ _?! HENRY JEKYLL?! I still remember that, ok? Nobody –_ _ **Nothing**_ _–_ _can take that from me,_ _ **understand**_ _? I was born in Glasgow_ _and_ _m_ _y best friend is... Is Lanyon._ _We met in college. We had… We had an affair together. He taught me how to dress, to act, to dance. Lanyon’s been my closest friend all these… All these... Years… And… And I..._

_My name is... Henry... Jekyll. Henry Jekyll, that sounds right. I was... I was born in... Glasgow..? My best friend is... Is...We met… In college..? I think that’s all there is to it…_

_My name is... Henry... Jekyll. I was... I was born in... Um... Edinburgh? My best friend is... Is… Um..._

_My name is... Henry... Um..._

_My name is H..._

_I... My name is... My..._

_My name is..._

_...I... I can't remember my name..?_

_Why can't I remember my name?_

_...What... What is happening to me..?!_

_WHY is this happening to me?!_

_...Who's that..?_

_...Why is he staring at me like that? Do I... Do I know him..? He seems... Familiar..?_

_Why does... Why does he have that look on his face..? Why does it hurt so bad..?_

_No, please. Don’t look so sad. Whatever I did wrong, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything, just stop giving me that look. Please..._

_...Please…_

_...Pl..._

His thoughts were slowing down, adrenaline rush leaving his body shaking and tired. He didn't have the energy to stand.

So he didn't.

Hyde let the floor rush up to meet him and he was unconscious before he even struck the floor.

Just before he drifted off completely though, he was overwhelmed by a feeling of loss.

  
  


Lanyon unlocked and opened the door to his house, heart heavy as he trudged in.

He had spent some more time searching for Jekyll, combing the entirety of the society, knocking at the door of Jekyll’s house and asking everyone and anyone who could have seen him. His attempts had gotten more and more desperate over time but, despite everything, he couldn’t find any trace of Jekyll. It was like Jekyll had simply ceased to exist after the exhibition, vanished into thin air.

Lying on the couch as Lanyon entered was a small body, curled into a ball – Edward Hyde. There were dried green stains on his shirt and trousers and his hair was a greasy, bedraggled mess that made him look more like some fairytale witch than a man.

Lanyon had cleaned up the worst of Hyde without stripping the short man. He had hated doing such a thing for a stranger, especially one he despised so, but Hyde was leaking vomit and chemicals onto Lanyon's floor. Lanyon had begrudgingly found himself dabbing around Hyde's mouth with a wet cloth and taking off Jekyll's stained tailcoat, leaving the shirt and pants.

When he wasn't covered in chemicals, Hyde looked... Alright. He wasn't a picture of beauty by any stretch of the words but he wasn't as hideously ugly as Lanyon had first thought.

He was also kind of peaceful looking, spread across the sofa.

His eyes were lightly shut giving the impression of regular sleep. They would move occasionally and Lanyon knew he was dreaming. What about, he couldn't possibly guess.

He had spent the time where Hyde was unconscious sending out letters, even slipping out of the house for several hours while Hyde was at his worst to look for Jekyll again. Given Jekyll's emotional state at the time, Lanyon could only think of the worst when his friend couldn’t be found.

Lanyon peered at the man for a second, thinking. Would he need to restrain Hyde? From what he had heard, Hyde wasn't likely to sit still once he woke up. Lanyon needed him to sit still so he could interrogate him about Henry. On the other hand, tying up a guy in your house was probably highly illegal, criminal or not.

It was in the middle of pondering this conundrum that Hyde began to stir. His face screwed itself up and he began to make a small groaning noise. A few small breaths and Hyde's eyes fluttered open. His eyes were highly dilated and he immediately winced at the bright lighting, hissing.

"How much did I drink last night?" He slurred to himself before rolling over, not even noticing Lanyon.

Lanyon stared at Hyde and then shook him briskly.

Hyde yowled like a cat and shot up, his fist narrowly missing Lanyon's face, an action by Hyde that the doctor had predicted before he shook him. He blinked, squinting in the light and glaring at Lanyon, his hair sticking up at every conceivable angle.

"What the hell?" Hyde grumbled, rubbing his eyes, "What do you want?" He blinked and glanced at his environment, "Where am I?"

"My house." Lanyon sat across from Hyde, primly crossing his legs and folding his arms, "And I want you to answer a few questions for me."

"I didn't steal Harold's engagement ring and he can go screw himself."

"...That's not what I was going to ask." Lanyon leaned forward in his seat, fixing Hyde with his most intense stare, "Where's Doctor Jekyll?"

A most peculiar expression crossed the shorter man's face at the mention of the name. It was strange mixture of confused, lost and sad all simultaneously. Lanyon thought he saw a certain wet sheen appear in the man's eyes as though he were about to cry. Then, Hyde blinked and he just looked angry and indignant as though the moment had never occurred.

"You kidnap me and take me to your house to ask about some Doctor?!"

"Would you rather I gave you over to Scotland Yard?! Just cut it out, Hyde, and tell me what the hell you've done with Jekyll!"

"I don't know a Doctor Jekyll! Who the hell are you, anyway?!"

Playing ignorant, huh? Lanyon's temper rose.

"I'm Doctor Lanyon! Jekyll's friend! You can't not know Doctor Jekyll – You've been his assistant for nigh on two years now!"

"I'm what?!"

"You are Edward Hyde, right? You didn't deny it when I called you by that name!" It wasn't a question, it was an accusation.

"I am but I've never been an assistant, especially to some Doctor!"

"Then what do you do for a living, huh?" Lanyon stared Hyde down. Hyde stared him down back, eyes blazing with anger.

The shorter man opened his mouth to respond with his usual gusto but, just as he was about to speak, he froze. He looked startled. His mouth closed and his eyes flicked from side to side, clearly thinking rapidly. A paleness was beginning to creep across his skin and the movement of his eyes became more rapid – Panicky. His mouth opened and closed several times as though he wanted to say something but didn’t know what to say. When he finally did speak, his voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

"I...” He swallowed. “I… I don't... remember..."

Lanyon felt his blood boil. Was he kidding?! Did he really think he could play the amnesia card?!

He was about to start yelling at the man when he suddenly remembered the state he had found Hyde in. Could that chemical have caused some kind of brain damage? Even if the chemical itself couldn't, Hyde had been practically suffocating and the loss of oxygen to the brain for that long could easily cause complications.

He took in Hyde’s appearance again and found himself softening a little. Hyde looked exactly like the scared little child that Rachel had described – lost and petrified. No matter how good of an actor Hyde was, he doubted anyone could fake that kind of fear. He shifted in his seat.

"Edward." This time, he spoke a little gentler, "Do you remember drinking a chemical in Jekyll's lab?"

"If I don't remember Jekyll, how the heck would I remember a chemical in his lab?!" Hyde screamed, hysterical. His body was starting to shake violently, "Oh God. I don't know who my parents are. I can't remember where I've been the past week, I don't-" He was starting to hyperventilate.

"Edward, Edward." Lanyon wished he was better at comforting people. This was difficult enough to deal with but it was Hyde, the person he most despised. "When I found you, you were choking on something. It was clearly some chemical from Jekyll's lab. I think it might be the cause of your memory loss."

"What chemical?"

"I don't know. The beaker was empty. It was green if that helps?"

"A lot of things are green, Lanyon. You outta see grass sometime."

"Look, I'm trying to help, you ungrateful brat!" Lanyon uncrossed and recrossed his legs, his frustration quickly rising again. "Do you remember the fire?"

"...Yeah." Hyde looked a little relieved at that, "I remember that. I remember that the police are after me." Panic re-entered his eyes, "But I don't remember how I've been hiding from them for the past week."

"So you do remember some things." Lanyon mused, "What about Rachel?"

"I remember her."

"Frankenstein?"

An odd expression again. Half admiration and half hate. When he spoke, his voice was clipped.

"Yes."

"Where you live?"

"Soho. You’re not getting anymore than that out of me but I remember it."

Lanyon didn't know enough about Hyde to ask much more. It was an odd assortment of memories, seemingly unconnected. Maybe if he knew more about Hyde, he would be able to figure out the connection but he didn't. Perhaps there just wasn't one.

Hyde was staring at him with large eyes. He was clearly trying to look hateful but the fear kept creeping back in. In a rather disconnected way, Lanyon noted that his eyes were quite a startling shade of green, a little like the strange potion.

His musings were cut off as Edward spoke again.

"...My memories, will I ever..?" He trailed off but Lanyon knew what he was asking.

"...I don't know. It depends on how you lost them. I don't know anything about the chemical that caused this."

"So I guess you're done with me then." Hyde shifted warily, glancing towards the door.

"Not so fast."

Hyde immediately leapt to his feet and sprinted towards the door but Lanyon, who had been seeing this outcome coming for a while, quickly caught his collar and dragged him back. Hyde kicked and bit at him, snarling like a feral beast.

"I'm not going to jail!" Hyde spat.

"I'm not sending you to jail!"

"Oh, sure! We can just talk about our feelings then? A heart to heart with a wanted criminal?!"

"Amnesia or not-" Lanyon threw Hyde back into his seat, "-You're the only one who might know what happened to Jekyll and I'm not letting you run off!"

Hyde glowered up at him. Lanyon held him firmly in the chair by the shoulders.

"I don't know a Jekyll."

"If your memories return, you will. Therefore, I am keeping you here until your memories return, understand?"

"You can't keep me here!"

"Oh sure." Lanyon sneered at Hyde, "Go ahead, wanted criminal, run out onto London streets while every officer in the city is looking for you. You don't remember where you've been for the past week so I bet you don't know where you were hidden."

"I can find it again." Hyde retorted but without confidence.

"When there's a perfectly good hiding place here?"

Hyde cocked an eyebrow. "You're just going to harbour a wanted criminal?"

"Who's going to look here for you? Everyone knows I hate you, after all."

"You what now?"

"Hate you."

"Uh... Have we... met before?"

"No."

Hyde screwed up his face indignantly, "You've never met me before and you hate me?!"

"With a character like yours? Yes."

Hyde stomped his foot childishly.

Lanyon stood up, letting go of Hyde, "Make yourself at home." He said in a tone that did not, in any way, convey welcome. "I need to send out some more letters."

"Looking for Jekyll?"

Lanyon shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "Yes."

With that, Hyde was left alone in the room to ponder his predicament.

  
  


Hyde was expected to sleep on the sofa. The only other possible bed was Lanyon's and he was too hateful of Hyde to allow him to sleep in it. Hyde grumbled a lot but feared arrest too much to fight for it. Honestly, he was pretty certain that Lanyon did have a guest room and guest bed but was making him sleep on the couch out of spite. The man had certainly given off that kind of impression.

That was how he was left – An uncomfortable temporary bed in an unknown house with a man who hated him and a memory full of more holes than Swiss cheese. It was as though his entire life was nothing but real life plot holes.

He was sure he was a street urchin and, yet, he wasn't used to sleeping on something as uncomfortable as a sofa and he certainly couldn't imagine sleeping on the floor unless drunk.

He was, according to Lanyon, Jekyll's assistant but he couldn't imagine doing errands willingly for anyone. Especially not this doctor guy whose very name filled Hyde with nasty feelings of loss and dislike.

He was London-born but he had a Scottish accent. A Scottish accent he masked for reasons he couldn't remember anymore. Either way, he wasn't letting Lanyon know about it.

It made his head hurt and he wanted to punch something.

Instead, he settled for punching the pillow which was, tragically, unsatisfying. He proceeded to bury his face into the pillow and groan.

Confusing, all too confusing.

All this thinking and worrying was usually Jekyll's job.

...Wait.

He sat up. Usually Jekyll's job? Had he just remembered something? It was a flippant thought, barely one worth thinking twice about usually but, in Hyde's state, he clutched onto it. He looked it over from every angle and focused as hard as he could, hoping to remember more.

It was useless though and just left Hyde twice as frustrated as before. He face-planted the pillow again and screamed into it. It was muffled by the pillow but it felt good to do.

After a long while of tossing and turning, Hyde settled into an uneasy sleep at 3am in the morning.


	3. Friendships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lanyon starts enlisting help in bringing back Hyde's memory.

Rachel was furious.

She stormed across the street, ignoring everybody in her way. Recently she had seen Lucy again and received the news that one of her underlings had seen none other than Robert _fricking_ Lanyon taking Hyde away in a carriage. _Unconscious._

To say she was upset at the news was an understatement.

Had Lanyon already turned him in to the cops or was he still interrogating the poor kid? The interrogation, hopefully. She knew Lanyon well enough to know that, the moment Hyde told him what he knew, he would be immediately disposed of at the nearest police station. On the other hand, she couldn't imagine how harshly he was being interrogated.

Still boiling with rage, she sprinted up the steps of Lanyon's house and pounded at the door as hard as she could. Then she stepped back and glared at the door, waiting for it to open.

Lanyon opened the door a crack and, before he could open it any further, Rachel was forcing it open and striding in.

"R-Rachel!" Lanyon spluttered, pushed aside in Rachel's anger.

"Where is he?!"

"What?!"

"Where is Edward?!"

Lanyon opened his mouth, face flushed, about to get into an argument with her when Hyde stepped into the room, clearly attracted by the commotion. Rachel threw herself at him and swept him up in a tight hug, the blonde ball in her arms kicking and struggling with a startled yelp.

"Get the hell off me!"

"What has Lanyon done to you?" Rachel fussed, pulling back and checking for injuries.

"Nothing!" Hyde shoved Rachel away vehemently, "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I wanted to know that as well." Lanyon piped up.

"Nobody cares about you, Lanyon." Hyde snapped and folded his arms.

"Well I heard that Lanyon here was seen carrying you, unconscious, away in a carriage." She tapped her foot, scowling at Lanyon.

"Oh, sure! I could have given him to the police you know! I've been helping him!"

"Only because it benefits you. You're still trying to figure out his connection to Henry. I guess since you haven't handed him over yet, Hyde's kept his mouth shut."

To her surprise, there was only an awkward silence at that statement.

Lanyon and Hyde avoided her eyes and shifted uncomfortably. She glanced between them, suddenly feeling an awful lot like she was being left out of some very important loop.

"...What?"

The pair glanced at each other. Hyde gave a shrug and carelessly shoved Lanyon forward, earning a scowl. Reluctantly, Robert turned to Rachel.

"...Well... Hyde had an incident involving some of the chemicals in Jekyll's lab." Lanyon explained slowly, "I didn't see quite what happened but he was choking when I found him... And when he woke up... He's lost memory, Rachel. He doesn't remember Jekyll."

Rachel blinked. She turned to Hyde, fully expecting this to be some ruse of his to keep Lanyon from arresting him but there was a distinctive lack of Hyde's characteristic confidence in his face. His mouth was a tight line and she could see a slight tremble in his legs.

No, the distress in Hyde's face was genuine. Her chest tightened.

"He doesn't remember a lot of things, actually." Lanyon finished, still not meeting her eye.

"Am I..?" Rachel didn't dare finish her question, a steadily growing fear increasing within her.

"I still remember you." Hyde huffed quietly, "But I don't know where I've been for the past week. I don't remember my childhood or my parents or how I got by. I don't know how I ended up in Jekyll's lab, apparently chugging chemicals like alcohol."

Rachel breathed out a sigh of relief. Then, "What chemicals?"

"We don't know." Lanyon and Hyde said simultaneously, to her amusement. A glare was angled at Hyde who responded by jabbing the source of the accusing look in the ribs with his elbow.

"I have worse news as well." Lanyon continued, rubbing his bruised rib and fixing a harsh look on Hyde. "Henry's missing."

She stiffened. "What?"

"I heard Jekyll scream just before I found Hyde but... I couldn't find him anywhere. I think Hyde saw him just before he lost his memory but..."

"...I'm sure he's fine." She reasoned, trying in vain to quell her growing worry. "I can get Lucy to look for him. She has eyes and ears across London."

Hyde bolted upright, staring at Rachel with eyes as round as plates.

"Excuse me, who?!"

"Because that worked _so_ well with Hyde!" Lanyon snapped back, "I don't think Lucy can really find anyone!"

"She found Edward in the end!"

"After I found him first!"

Hyde stood to the side slightly, listening to the pair argue. Listening to them both yell at each other was causing a strange painful feeling in his chest, like his heart was crying out for the loss of this Dr Jekyll. He crushed the feeling underfoot.

"Shut up!" He yelled out silencing the pair. When the room was silent, he glared at the pair of them, arms crossed for a second before speaking. "When the actual hell has Rachel met _Lucy_?! Are we talking the Lucy I think you're talking about?!"

"Good to see you still remember your crush." Rachel remarked. Hyde spluttered, red in the face. "The point is, Lucy can find him. Hyde can attest to her effectiveness." She looked smugly at Hyde, expecting him to back her up.

Instead, Hyde shifted uncomfortably, provoking a bewildered look from Rachel.

It was a moment before he spoke and, when he did, his voice was barely a whisper.

"...I don't think she'll find him."

"How do you know that?" Lanyon asked suspiciously.

"I just... Have a feeling." A quiet murmur of lost memories babbled in his head, incomprehensible to him. "I don't think Jekyll's coming back."

"I swear, Hyde, if I find out you murdered him..." Lanyon started.

"I didn't!" Hyde threw up his hands.

"I'm just saying, in all the theatre productions I've seen, whenever there's an amnesiac, they willingly forgot their own memories because of some dark event in their past. Murder is a good enough excuse as any to want to forget."

"Edward wouldn't murder anyone!" Rachel protested.

"Oh, sure!"

"I most certainly would!" Hyde retorted, earning a glare from both Rachel and Lanyon simultaneously, "I just didn't this time."

"What? You have another feeling?" A scowl. "Feelings mean nothing, I just want my friend back. If any of these 'feelings' of yours tells us exactly where he is, then I'll care." There was a watery gleam in Lanyon's eyes but he blinked it away so quickly that Edward was uncertain if he had seen anything at all. "Never mind. Look, Rachel, you're here now so can you keep an eye on him? I don't want him running off."

"If you think I'm taking my eyes off him-"

"I need to go and take this to the police."

"The police?"

"Henry Jekyll is a missing person. You can get Lucy to search all she likes but I'm taking this to the law... There's not much more I can do."

"I'm sure he'll turn up eventually. It's only been just over a day, you can't assume-"

"With the state Henry's been in lately followed by what happened at the exhibition followed by his disappearance, you can't seriously be so naive to believe that it's nothing?" Lanyon wouldn't meet Rachel's eye. "I'm worried about Henry's mental state after that."

"...Do you think he ran away?"

Lanyon turned around, eyes fixed hard on the floor. "I can't be sure of anything yet but... But Henry might not be aware of himself right now."

In his mind, he could see vividly the event they threw to promote the exhibition. The one where Jekyll had fled the hall and, knelt in the tulips, pale and shaking, told Lanyon that Moreau was chasing him.

At the time, Robert had done his best to keep calm but that haunted look in Jekyll's eyes - eyes that seemed more to look straight through him rather than at him - was still so terrifyingly clear in his mind.

That time when Jekyll had ranted about delusional ideas of rottenness, in a blind panic.

That time when Henry, in an act of uncharacteristic violence, hit his own friend.

What would have happened if Lanyon hadn't found him? Could he have stood up at some point and ran all the way out of London, swept up in fears and delusions?

Worse, if that was what had happened at a simple party like any other, what would have happened after the stress of the exhibition?

He could only picture Jekyll in his head, wandering in a haze of nothing but crazed fear somewhere far away. Could only picture Jekyll breaking after the exhibition, running pursued by things only he saw, caught in an endless nightmare.

Was Jekyll in that state somewhere out there? Maybe in a city or wandering mindlessly in a forest or field. Maybe he had been picked up by an asylum, unrecognised by the staff as anything other than another madman.

The last thing he had heard from Jekyll was the scream from his lab just before he found Hyde. It had sounded pained at the time but memory twisted it to a scream of fear – The sound Jekyll had uttered before fleeing in fright. A sound that would forever haunt Robert’s nightmares whether Jekyll was found or not.

That could have been the last he had ever heard from his friend.

He bit his lip to stop it trembling.

"What does that mean?" Rachel asked but Lanyon was already leaving, striding purposefully.

No matter what Hyde said, he was certain Jekyll could be found. He had to be.

This thought fuelled him all the way to the police station.

  
  


Missing.

The thought was taunting in Rachel's head.

It was a twisted kind of irony, Rachel reflected, that she would find her missing Hyde just as Jekyll vanished. It was as though the universe refused to let her have both.

Hyde wasn't the same either. With his memory loss, he was different. There just wasn't the same swagger to his step, the blinding self-confidence. Now, he felt a whole lot more like a lost child.

If she dwelled on these thoughts all day she would send herself mad. Instead, she steeled her nerve. She was certain that Hyde would drive himself the same way if kept in isolation. He had to get out and go somewhere. The question was, where?

The answer struck her and a grin spread across her face.

She knew, from Lucy, how to get him out without being caught by the police as long as Hyde co-operated.

The shorter man was sat with a focused look on his face. He was screwing up his face, clearly trying as hard as he could to fill the gaps in his memory and getting increasingly frustrated.

"Edward."

Hyde looked up, startled.

"Do you want to go out somewhere?"

Hyde snorted, "Oh, yeah, I would love to but, if you haven't noticed, I'm kind of Scotland Yard's most wanted currently."

"I can keep you safe if you just follow my lead."

"You?" Hyde reacted with amused scepticism, "You're a kitchen maid!"

"I know Lucy, don't I?"

Hyde fell silent.

"I'm sure there's a lot about you I don't know. There's a lot about me that you don't know."

"There's a lot I don't know right now." Hyde countered bitterly, "I don't even know myself."

Was it a good idea to tell him her theories on the matter? She was almost certain that Hyde was Jekyll and Morcant's child but, if she _was_ wrong, she didn't want to plant fake memories in his head, not when he was vulnerable like this.

Well she didn't have to say anything now. Leave Hyde to remember things on his own and, if nothing came back, tell him what she believed. That seemed best.

"Well you're going to give yourself an aneurysm sitting here trying to remember things all day. I find, if I forget something, it usually comes back when you're not thinking about it."

Hyde looked to the side, doubtful.

"I'll get you cookies?" She bribed, recalling Hyde's appetite, "I'm sure Lanyon won't feed you enough here."

"At least 10." Came the bargain.

"You'll get cavities."

"12."

"Fine."

"14?"

"Don't push it."

Hyde sniffed and grumbled something under his breath but, when Rachel stood up and turned for the door, he obediently followed.

  
  


"So where are we going anyway?"

The pair of them stuck to the alleyways, weaving between patches of shade. Rachel was clearly the better skilled at hiding. Hyde had a tendency to have an elbow or a spike of hair jutting out from their hiding place and Rachel would have to adjust him to Hyde's indignation.

"You'll see." She just said cryptically.

Something rather spiteful sounding was muttered under Hyde's breath but he didn't push it further.

Finally, they stepped out into a series of stalls. Hazy streams of blue and green smoke coiled lazily in the air from bottles of every shape and size. Clockwork pieces fashioned into people or unusual weapons adorned every surface. There was the glint of knives and axes sharp enough to cut through steel like butter, hung from racks. People dressed in masks or dark coats milled, haggling and buying.

Hyde's eyes grew comically wide and his mouth dropped open.

"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies."

"Is... Is this Blackfog?!" With the energy and enthusiasm of a small child Hyde spun to face Rachel. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet and practically sparkled with energy. Rachel giggled, seeing how excited he was.

"Well we can't go anywhere legal considering you're a wanted criminal but a lot of the people here are criminals."

Hyde made to rush forward but Rachel caught him by the collar.

"Don't wander off without me, it's dangerous here."

Hyde made to argue but seemed to remember Rachel's connection to Queen Lucy and begrudgingly agreed. Rachel reflected that Hyde seemed a lot more subdued since he lost his memory. Maybe it was a good thing. The old Hyde would have run off without her immediately and gotten himself into trouble.

Rachel let Hyde drag them to stall after stall to admire the numerous pieces of contraband. Although he was interested in anything particularly destructive like bombs and knives, Hyde seemed to take particular note in anything that could affect memory.

There were potions for wiping memories, strange ray guns that could give a person new memories and a selection of jars of other people's memories in liquid form. Nothing, however, that could restore lost memories.

With that cause lost, Hyde's interest moved quickly to alchemy.

It was rather bemusing to Rachel to find that Hyde of all people would be so facinated in chemicals and potions.

If it was just the explosive or poisonous kinds, she would understand, but he would also stare in amazement in the less dangerous potions. Those that make a person float like a balloon, would help a person have nicer dreams, or allowed a person to sprout scales on their hands - all of them caught a complete an utter rapture from Hyde, like a child being given new toys.

"Dragon's breath potion!" A vendor called out, "Allows a person to breathe fire for up to an hour!"

Hyde slowed to a trot, staring at the stall. His eyes were fixed on the glass on the table, an orange luminous fluid sat inside.

"I didn't realize you could get Dragon's breath anymore." Breathed Hyde, awestruck, "I thought the formula was lost hundreds of years ago."

The vendor chuckled, overhearing Hyde's wonder. "The recipe was rediscovered by a scientist in China. I'm surprised you know about it though, Dragon's breath hasn't been spoken about in centuries. A scientist yourself, are you?"

"Well a couple of years back I tried to recreate it. It never worked, of course, I just ended up sneezing smoke for several hours." Hyde stopped beside the stall and crinkled his nose, recalling the event. Sometimes he still fancied he smelled smoke when he shouldn't.

"That's usually the result. Other than sudden combustion, of course."

"Once I set my sleeve on fire." Hyde continued, clearly thrilled at the conversation. "I was lucky the fire didn't go any further."

"You want to buy a bottle?"

Hyde hesitated and squinted at the potion. "Nah, bad memories drinking that stuff. 'Sides, there's not much I can do with the ability to breathe fire right now."

"Well, good luck browsing. I hope you find what you're looking for."

"I probably won't but thanks anyway."

Hyde stepped away from the stall and came face to face with Rachel's bug-eyed stare.

"...What's your problem?" He asked, "You look like a fish."

"You're a scientist?"

On the inside, Rachel's emotions were torn between surprise and excitement. She probably should have seen this coming, she supposed. From what Jekyll had told her of Morcant, she was well taught in ancient alchemy. If Hyde was her child, it made sense that he would have been taught in a similar way. Still, it was quite an unexpected thing to find out given Edward's personality.

Hyde opened his mouth and stopped, a dawning expression on his face.

"This is exactly what I was talking about." Rachel smiled warmly, "Now that you're not thinking about it, your memories are returning. Do you remember anything else?"

The expected reaction had been glee. She had been prepared for Hyde to snort and tell her that no chemical could push down the great Spirit of London at Night, of course his memories were returning.

Instead, something quite strange was crossing his face.

There was a strange twitch in his expression, a paleness of skin that, in the lighting, made him look a sickly yellow. It looked for all the world like Hyde was fighting some internal battle and, whatever the results were, he certainly did _not_ like them.

"N-no... I... I can't be a scientist... I... I'm a..."

Rachel frowned at him, concern building. At his sides, Edward kept clenching and unclenching his fists.

Then, sharply, he shook his head as though clearing it of something.

When he looked back up at her, he appeared to have calmed down somewhat, although he still looked rather ill.

"I was Jekyll's assistant, right? So maybe it was something to do with that, a project I helped him with."

"With you as the guinea pig?" Her eyebrows shot up.

"Must have been." Hyde looked to the side. There was something uneasy on his face. "Anyway, let's get going. I want to look at more before we have to leave."

Edward marched off, Rachel left to stare after him. Her brow creased as she processed what she had just heard and, with new worry gnawing inside her, followed behind.

In the end, Hyde ended up buying a mask to hide his face. It was made to look like a silver face with black markings around the eyes. Several glass eyepieces came off it on manouvarable stalks that could be fixed over the eyes to give the user night vision, the ability to see ghosts and the ability to see under people's clothes respectively. Rachel immediately broke off the last one to Hyde's horror.

Rachel also ended up buying. She bought a knife that, at the press of a button, lit itself on fire. Hyde was impressed until she said it was for cooking.

"That's clearly supposed to be a weapon, Rachel."

"Looks like a kitchen knife to me."

"That's only to make it less conspicuous."

"You want it to be used as a weapon, get your own."

Edward returned to Lanyon's house feeling much better. He sat on the sofa, grinning. Rachel also looked pleased with their outing.

"Can we do that again sometime?" Hyde asked with a gleam in his eyes.

"Only as long as it's in the city which won't be much longer." Rachel sat down and leaned back thoughtfully, "Maybe if we can get a sample of that potion you used on yourself, someone there would be able to identify it."

Hyde's eyes light up even brighter, "You really think so?"

"It's worth a shot. We just need a sample of the potion. You'll stay here, right? I need to go to the society and find the potion."

"Where else would I go?"

"Just... Stay put."

  
  


"Hey, has anyone seen Jekyll lately?"

Unsurprisingly, the first of the lodgers to inquire ended up being Jasper.

Already, he had apologized to Jekyll for ditching the exhibition but, despite this, the guilt still roiled in his stomach like a snake was trying to constrict his guts. It pushed him to apologize again, to say he was sorry over and over until... Well... He didn't really know.

It was wrong to expect a single person to do a whole exhibition alone, he understood that and his more logical side told him that Jekyll would understand too. Unfortunately, this knowledge did nothing to help. 

At least, a proper apology would be nice – one that wasn't a fearful squeak. Somehow he doubted it would completely remove how terrible he felt about it but it was better than nothing.

When he had seen how many people there were at the exhibition and no other displays besides his own, he had frozen up with fear. Jasper had barely been able breathe, staring out and knowing he had a decision to make: It was go out there and panic and mess up in front of hundreds of people or deal with the guilt of letting Jekyll down.

In the end, his own paralysing fear won out. He had run away and huddled in his room, stewing in guilt and praying that Jekyll wouldn't come.

Sure enough, he never did.

It took several days of a guilty conscience, several days of waiting for the day when Jekyll came in through that door, before he finally came back out.

In that time, his mind conjured up horrible images and scenarios of how Jekyll would react when they next spoke. He cycled through every scenario from angry to upset to resigned. Most of them included Jasper getting kicked out of the society for one reason or another.

At long last, Jasper's guilt managed to outdo his own fear and he emerged from his room. Maybe to apologize, maybe to ask what came next. He just couldn't keep not knowing.

However, no matter how many people he asked, it seemed the doctor was nowhere to be seen.

"No. I haven't seen him lately," Was the reply.

"Good riddance," Others would say.

"He's probably planning the next 'big' event."

"Lanyon was asking the same thing."

That was how the responses started. Dismissive, apathetic and occasionally downright mean. On occasion, Lanyon's name came up, someone who was also looking for Jekyll, but that was the most information they could give.

Jasper couldn't find hide or tail of the man and, in response, his guilt only grew. He was forced to give up his search, left only to his imagination.

The next person to start asking was Lavender.

"Jekyll didn't give Frankenstein her medicine today, do you know where he might have gone?"

It wasn't that she was the type to be outwardly mean but, even if they didn't get along, she found it distasteful that the doctor would ditch Frankenstein in such a time of need. Either she was getting answers or she was about to give the "good" doctor a piece of her mind.

However, she was quick to realize that there was more to it than just petty spite.

"Not since the exhibition," People would say.

"I'm sure he'll show up eventually," They would reassure.

"He's probably just recovering from... You know."

"You know, Jasper and Lanyon were asking the exact same thing. Have you asked either of them?"

Then it was Ito asking. Then Cantilupe. Then Archer. Then Griffin.

"You know, I haven't seen him in ages..." Came the murmurs.

"I think he came down with something, he looked quite ill last I saw him." They would reason.

"Was the exhibition really _that_ big of a deal? He wouldn't have just left us over that, would he?"

"Did Lanyon ever find him in the end? I haven't seen Lanyon in a while either."

The response was the same again and again but something else began to run through the crowd. There was a steadily building unease and, with it, the dismissive hatred of Jekyll began to cool into fear and guilt.

It was becoming clearer and clearer that something was dreadfully wrong but nobody could pinpoint exactly what it was.

"Do you think he's ok?"

"Sick is all, he's just taking a break."

"But what do we do without him? The society belongs to him, if Jekyll isn't around to pay the bills..."

"I don't know where I would go if the society wasn't around anymore. I'm sure I'll find somewhere but it'll never be like here."

A dark atmosphere began to come over the society. Jekyll's absence was all anyone would talk about. They hadn't seen Lanyon in a while either, they noticed. How was the society supposed to run when both of the leaders had seemingly vanished? Had they walked out on them? How much longer did the society have before it was shut down?

The situation went from concern to downright despair when the news came in.

It was an early morning when Archer came running through the doors in a panic, clutching something in his hand and yelling for everyone to come look. Quickly, drawn by his urgency, a crowd gathered around him. People jostled to see what was going on, murmuring to one another curiously. Those nearer the back stood on tiptoes or jumped up and down, trying to see.

Soon, though, everybody had seen what it was he held in his shaking hands.

Bit by bit, the room fell into a complete silence. As the truth of the situation dawned on each of them, there were no words that could have been said. The only noise was muffled sobs and horrified gasps. The lodgers just stared, some with their hands over their mouths, others as stiff as rods.

One could have heard a pin drop in that room.

Clutched tightly in Archer's hand, crinkled from the harsh grip and slightly wet from tears was a missing person poster.

It belonged to Jekyll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive plot hole but I think Blackfog is supposed to be over before the exhibition? On the other hand, there's nowhere better for Hyde to be taken so I guess it was kept open for longer for unknown reasons. Maybe Rachel pulled some strings given her relationship to Lucy.
> 
> This fic is going to have so many plot holes by the end. It will have more holes than Hyde's memory.
> 
> I really hate the fact that I haven't planned this because the Blackfog scene seemed like a really good place for Hyde to pick up something plot relevent for later - a quick fix-it at the end. Sadly, I can't think of anything right now. I might go back to this chapter and put something in there so if Hyde magically picks up a ray-gun later or something, it's from a edited version of this chapter.
> 
> Oh, also. Lodgers. This is going to be kind of a big impact on them after all as the people who depend on the society and Dr Jekyll to continue not getting killed by an angry mob.


	4. Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel deals with the mystery of the chemical. The lodgers deal with the loss. Hyde deals with things he doesn't understand. Lanyon just deals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning this chapter for non-explicit nudity in front of another person and hallucinations.

Lanyon and Hyde alone in the same house was a bad idea – something the pair only realized after Rachel had left to find the potion.

Edward was quick to bore and his need for something interesting fell on the only available victim – That was, unfortunately, Lanyon.

"Give that back!" Lanyon darted after the shorter man as he rushed around the house. He had plundered Lanyon's wine storage and was, at that moment in time, sprinting through the house clutching a bottle of red wine to his chest, whooping in glee at Lanyon's expense.

"What are you willing to pay for it?" Hyde shouted over his shoulder as he leapt upon the banister of the stairs, skating down it.

Lanyon was quickly remembering why he hated Hyde so much.

"You're a wanted criminal! What would you possibly want with money?!"

"Hey, I'm not saying the payment has to be money!" Hyde laughed. He reached the end of the banister and performed a graceful leap off it, landing at the bottom of the stairs with a flourish.

Lanyon didn't even grace that with an answer. He arrived at the bottom of the stairs, lunging at Hyde in an attempt to snatch the liquor from him. Hyde twirled, keeping the bottle out of Robert's grasp. Lanyon darted around him, trying to snatch the bottle from his grip but, every time he did, Hyde would just move it out of reach again.

Finally, Lanyon decided to throw the rules of etiquette out the window and physically grab Hyde. There was a yelp and, before they knew what was happening, the pair ended up on the floor in a tangle of limbs, both wrestling for the bottle. Hyde had the upper hand of experience whereas Lanyon had height and weight. When Hyde would make a swipe at Lanyon, the taller man would pin him down with his full body weight and the shorter man, barely skin and bones, could do little to resist.

On the other hand, Hyde wasn't afraid to play dirty.

Robert narrowly avoided being bitten several times and was bruised several times by a well-aimed elbow. He was even head-butted at one point in the stomach.

At long last, Lanyon managed to tear the bottle from Hyde's grip. He hopped to his feet, embarrassed at his own aggressive rough-housing and being so close to Edward for so long, the bottle clutched to his chest. His face was flushed and his hair was plastered to his face by sweat. Hyde just laughed with gasping, exhausted huffs of hilarity.

"You're stronger than you look." Hyde managed to get out between gasps for air and bursts of laughter, "That was fun."

"I'm glad one of us thinks so." Lanyon gave him an unamused look as he dusted off his own trousers. He didn't want to admit it but it had been _kind_ of fun.

Obviously, if he said that aloud, Hyde would never let him live it down.

"I thought you would have a little more respect given that it's my house." Lanyon continued, checking the bottle for leakages or cracks. It was, luckily, fine.

"Oh come on, you can't really tell me you didn't have any fun?"

"I did not." He turned, heading to put the bottle away. To his annoyance, Hyde trailed along, watching Lanyon closely.

There was a while where the only sounds was their footsteps, Lanyon's eyes flicking between Hyde and where he was walking, watching for any sudden movements or other signs that Hyde was about to make another attempt at theiving the bottle.

Then, "...What was Jekyll like?"

Lanyon glanced at Hyde out of the corner of his eye but didn't stop walking or turn to look at Edward.

"...He was..." He breathed deeply through his nose. "...Kind. Gentle. He wouldn't hurt a fly."

Hyde snorted, "Sounds like a real prude."

"He was a better person than you would ever be."

The answer was somewhat harsh but Robert was riled up from the fighting. Edward narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything.

As they walked, he started to examine Robert's face in a rather uncomfortable way, his face screwing up in an expression that Lanyon had come to recognize as 'Trying really hard to remember something'.

Robert considered asking what on Earth Hyde was trying to do but he decided that, unless it was Jekyll related, what was in Hyde’s head should stay in his head. The less he knew, the better.

"...Have we met before?" Hyde finally asked, unexpectedly.

"No. I can say that with certainty."

"You seem familiar, that's all. Must be the pretentious air about you – The stick-up-the-ass kind of attitude, you know?" Edward finally stopped staring. "Anything else you can say about Jekyll? Did he _ever_ do anything interesting?"

His passion. His smile that, when genuine, seemed to light up a room. The way he could talk for hours about science if you let him, rambling on non-stop. The way that he panicked when he realized he had been rambling about science for far too long.

There were plenty of things that could be said were interesting about Dr Jekyll but Lanyon settled on what he thought would interest Hyde.

"...He loved monsters." A small smile grazed Lanyon's lips and a wistful look sparked behind his eyes, "Werewolves particularly. I never really understood it myself but he always enjoyed the things that would scare most people – he found them thrilling."

Hyde's face was unreadable as he digested the information.

"That's more interesting than I expected, I'll give him that." Hyde ran his fingers through his hair, sweeping some locks of hair out of his face, "I suppose that's why he liked having me as his assistant." Seeing Lanyon's confused expression, Edward added with a beam, "I'm quite the monster myself!"

"How so?"

Hyde opened his mouth to answer but hesitated, a frown forming on his face. "...I don't remember."

"You sure there was ever an answer to that question? I think you might just have an inflated ego."

Hyde grumbled but was too tired from their fighting to get into an argument. "I just know, ok? There's something special about me."

"You keep telling yourself that."

Hyde answered by tackling Lanyon and snatching up the bottle. Robert, from the floor where he landed, glared after him. Jekyll's assistant, ignoring the quiet moment they had just had, launched immediately back into the torment, disappearing away on his nimble feet back into the depths of the house.

This, Lanyon decided, was going to be a long day.

  
  


Frankenstein was smug. There was no hiding the grin on her face or the sparkle in her eyes.

She had won. The lodgers had come to her side, turning against Jekyll and soon, if all went well, they wouldn't be caught under his thumb anymore. They would be free to do their experiments without being controlled like a wild animal on a leash. No longer tethered to the whims of the public to be at their beck and call. No longer would the mad scientists of London be crushed into the roles of society.

She had the increased satisfaction that she hadn't seen Jekyll's face since her success. Probably sulking somewhere, potentially plotting his next attempt. Well it wouldn't work, she had opened the eyes of his 'lodgers' to what he was doing and they would never fall for his lies again.

She. Had. Won.

She sat there primly, waiting for Lavender to arrive to administer the medicine that Jekyll was now neglecting.

Creature was glaring at her from the side but she didn't particularly care.

"What?" She asked him cheerily. She knew what he was about to say but she was too happy to care.

"It would be a lot more helpful to you if you didn't insist on antagonizing your caretaker."

"Lavender's my caretaker now. Therefore, it doesn't matter."

Creature sighed. "As long as you don't anger her as well. We're running out of options, Frankenstein."

"I'm fine with her treating me. As long as it's not Jekyll, I'm happy."

Creature rolled his eyes. "Someday, Frankenstein, I think you'll regret the way you've behaved lately."

Frankenstein opened her mouth to retort but she was cut off by the creak of the door. A smallish figure slipped into the room, quietly closing the door behind her. The figure was instantly recognizable to Frankenstein as her new caretaker in question, Lavender.

Frankenstein turned a sparkling grin to her caretaker, ready to greet her, but the smile faltered and faded when she saw the look on Lavender's face. She was pale, head down. She seemed distracted in a way that Frankenstein had never seen in her before.

It was immediately clear that something was wrong.

"Hi again, Frankenstein." Lavender greeted, so upset that even her usual gleam of admiration for Frankenstein had faded. It was just a blunt greeting to someone she knew. She approached slowly, carrying vials of medicines, perched on a stack of books.

Frankenstein waited for her to approach, eyebrow cocked. She wanted to ask desperately but it seemed wrong to interrogate the poor girl the moment she entered.

Once Lavender had placed down her stack, Frankenstein inquired.

"What's the matter?"

Not looking up, Lavender asked, voice quiet, "...Is it really that obvious?"

Frankenstein nodded and leaned forward, concerned. "Is it anything I can help with?"

Lavender didn't meet her eyes, "Not unless you know how to find a missing person?"

There was a jolt of panic. Missing? Who?!

Frankenstein straightened, immediately afraid. "Did one of the lodgers go missing?!"

A long pause. There was a sniffle and Lavender wiped her nose. When she spoke, her voice was so feeble that Frankenstein had to strain to hear.

"...Jekyll." Another sniffle, "...He... He disappeared after the exhibition... And nobody's seen him since..."

Frankenstein stiffened. He disappeared? How? _Why?_

"Officially? There's no way he wandered off somewhere and forgot to tell you?"

Lavender shook her head. When she spoke, her voice was choked, "The police are combing the city for him but nobody can find him and..." Tears were beginning to spill freely down her face, "This is my fault, isn't it? I ditched him at the exhibition and now he's run away or... Or something terrible's happened to him!"

Frankenstein's heart shattered, seeing Lavender's distress. She didn't like Jekyll but... Missing?

Did the exhibition really mean that much to him? Why would it matter so much to him? It was just a way of showing off how pristine and proper he had gotten all the city's mad scientists to be, a gloat of how well he could scrub them clean, inside and out.

He hadn't needed the money from the exhibition really. He _couldn't_ have needed it.

...Why would he have done such a project if he didn't have the funds for it? It was a charity project, not a business.

"It's not your fault." Frankenstein said quietly, "Nobody took part in the exhibition. You wouldn't have done it alone, would you?"

She reached over and took a tissue, handing it to Lavender. Lavender sniffed and dabbed at her tears.

"Besides," Frankenstein reasoned, just as much trying to convince herself as Lavender, "We don't know it was because of the exhibition. Something else could have happened. In fact, I'm _sure_ it must have been something else." She spoke with all the confidence she could muster at that time which, although not as much as usual, was still a lot.

Lavender's bottom lip trembled, "Still nothing good."

Frankenstein thought about every option that could cause someone like Dr Jekyll to disappear and Lavender was right – None of them were good. "Maybe there's an option we're not thinking of. Like he went on a business trip and forgot to tell anyone?"

Her caretaker was clearly dubious but she accepted the idea.

"But who's going to pay for the society while he's gone? The food, the lodging, funding for our experiments..." She was clearly on the verge of tears again. Frankenstein handed her another tissue which she accepted with a quiet 'Thanks'.

"Isn't Lanyon the co-leader?"

"Yes, but he doesn't care about us the way Jekyll does. Besides, he's too distressed trying to find Jekyll to care about us."

"Say it was the exhibition… Why would the exhibition matter so much?" Frankenstein mused, partly to herself, partly to Lavender.

"Jekyll said it was for funding."

"But he's a gentleman? Isn't both he and Lanyon rich?"

"I don't know. Jekyll said we needed the funding but he never said how badly. I... I kind of assumed it was just in case something happened in the future. Like Sinnett blows up half the building and we need the money to fix it. What if it wasn't though? We should have thought of that beforehand!" She was sobbing again, her voice a wail, "We should have considered before we ditched that it could have been more important!"

"Then it's Jekyll's fault for not telling you." Frankenstein assured, "If it was that important, he should have said it was that important instead of just saying it was funding."

She allowed Lavender to treat her but she knew that both of their minds were on the issue at hand. Something akin to guilt roiled in her stomach but that couldn't be it. It wasn't _necessarily_ her fault, after all – there was no real proof of that.

She shifted uncomfortably, harshly aware of Creature's look on her back. She didn't have to see it to know it was an 'I told you so' look.

Where could Jekyll have possibly gone?

  
  


Rachel had found the potion pretty easily. It was a beaker, strange in shape, with droplets of a green fluid inside. It had been left on the floor since Hyde's accident.

Even if Rachel hadn't seen the accident, the office bore the markings of something terrible. Furniture was knocked over, green fluid splattered every wall and floor and there was a puddle of vomit which she chose not to look at. The police had been there since Jekyll's disappearance but nobody had touched the place yet, lest they disturb some vital clue. Rachel chose to take said vital clue.

She managed to slip in and out with ease, bottle in hand, and head towards the exit. She was stopped, however, when she saw some of the lodgers. They looked utterly miserable.

She hesitated, uncertain whether it was worth asking. She could take a good guess at what was bothering them, after all – Lanyon had been asking for ages, news would have to reach the society eventually.

Jasper made the decision for her. He ran up to her, clearly a mess of nerves and anxieties.

"Rachel! Did you hear?" His eyes were wide, brimming with tears. "Jekyll-"

"I know." She took in Jasper's appearance and then glanced at the bottle in her hand. Hyde could wait. It seemed like she was needed more there. She slipped the bottle into a pocket on her apron. "Do you want to go somewhere more private to talk?"

Jasper nodded and the pair of them slipped to the kitchen. Rachel fetched a chair for Jasper to sit on but remained standing herself.

"It's my fault." He said, once he was sat down. He wouldn't look Rachel in the eye. "I should have at least stayed to help Jekyll. Even if just to help explain why the exhibition wasn't on. Maybe... Maybe then he wouldn't have gone missing. Or maybe I would have seen where he went or what happened or- Or-" He placed his head in his hands, "I don't know. Somebody should have been there for him."

"Lanyon was there and he didn't see anything, I doubt you could have changed anything." Rachel busied herself making a cup of tea for Jasper, "You shouldn't blame yourself."

"But what if I could have? We don't know!"

Rachel sighed, "Jasper, we all let Jekyll down – It's not your fault specifically and I think everyone's beating themselves up about it. The fact is, we don't know where he went or why. It could have been the exhibition, it could have been something else entirely. Maybe Jekyll was taken in his sleep while there was nobody around to see and nothing we could have done would have changed anything."

"...What if it's true..?" He spoke, barely audible, "...That he left because the exhibition failed?"

"He wouldn't." She assured, confidently, "Trust me, I know Jekyll – He wouldn't have left over that.

Jasper didn't respond. Rachel sighed and placed a cup of tea in his hands.

"Who's been saying it was the exhibition?" She asked, sitting across from him.

"...Everyone." Jasper stared down at his lap, twiddling his fingers, "All anyone's been saying is that it was the exhibition – That he abandoned us for not being there when he needed us. I could have done something. I could have helped! I could-"

"You and I both know you can't have an exhibition with only one participant. You shouldn't let the rumours get to you. The lodgers here are a living, breathing rumour mill."

Jasper fell silent again. Rachel sighed, sympathetic.

"There's a lot of people looking for him. I'm sure he'll show up sooner or later." She smiled.

Her memory returned to Hyde's ominous words, his claim that nobody could find Jekyll, and there was a twist in her stomach. Her smile became a tad more strained.

She didn't believe Lanyon's claim that Hyde had murdered Jekyll, he just wouldn't do that, but what about death? If Hyde found Jekyll's dead body or saw him dying, wouldn't that be excuse enough to erase his own memories? Was that what that potion did? They had seen plenty like it at the bazaar that could erase memories.

She kept up her smile though, for Jasper's sake. Hyde could know something and his memories already seemed to be returning. Whatever had happened, all would be revealed with Hyde's memories. That just meant she had to protect Hyde from Lanyon after the truth was revealed.

She wondered if Edward and Robert were getting along.

  
  


"You insufferable little brat!" Lanyon was yelling again, his face flushed with humiliation and anger, "Just put on some clothes! For the love of God!"

Hyde was glaring at him from across the room, infuriatingly half-naked. He had, thankfully, been stopped from stripping before he reached his underwear, "I'm going to take a bath! I thought you would be happy!"

"You strip in the bathroom, Hyde! Not in the middle of the house!"

"Says what law?!"

"My law! I own this house! I control whether or not you get arrested by the police and I say, DON'T GET NAKED IN FRONT OF ME!"

"Why? Don't you like what you see?" Hyde trailed a finger across his body and Lanyon went even redder.

"Just get in the bathroom, dammit! I hope you boil to death in there!"

Lanyon threw a shoe at Hyde who ducked under it with a whoop of glee and sprinted away to the bathroom.

Hyde stumbled, panting, into the bathroom, swinging the door smoothly shut and spinning to face the room.

He started to run the bath, watching the steam rise and fill the room. The mirror over the sink fogged up quickly and Hyde perched on his tip-toes to draw a dick in the glass with his finger. He smirked, hoping that Lanyon would see that later.

He was about to turn back to the bath when he noticed his reflection. It was hazy from the steam so, with reluctance, he wiped the steam off along with, tragically, his dick drawing.

He stared at himself in the glass.

His appearance seemed wrong to him. It was his face, the same face he had always had, and yet it felt like he should be staring at a different one.

He pursed his lips.

Taller. He should be taller.

His face pinched. Was he ever going to go through a growth spurt or was he just destined to be short forever?

He snorted and turned back to the bath, switching off the water. He stripped the rest of his clothes and dipped a toe in the water.

...Except, when his toe touched the water, he noticed that the water was bright crimson.

He hesitated, bewildered, and removed his toe from the water. It didn't look like water. It had a thick consistency and a coppery smell reached Hyde's nose.

_That's... Blood. Why's the bath full of blood?_

His foot dripped where it had touched the liquid, leaving bloody footprints on the bathmat. Hyde stepped backwards and felt something wet on his hands. With steadily growing unease, Hyde looked at his hands.

Blood trickled between his fingers, flowing down his arms in rivers. The blood just kept coming as though he were bleeding badly from some cut but there was no pain. It splattered onto the floor and it was met by puddles of luminous green.

Hyde, desperately trying to control his breathing, spun around to run out the door and tell Lanyon there was something up with his plumbing. But the bathroom wasn't there anymore.

Instead, Hyde was stood in an office. There was a desk and cabinets and cabinets filled with tubes and beakers filled with greens and reds and blues. He was facing a cheval mirror. It was an oval, full body mirror, rimmed in gold. Hyde could see his own face in the glass, looking terrified.

That was ridiculous. He wasn't scared. This was just some hallucination, some side-effect of his memory loss or the chemical that caused it.

His reflection blinked and tears of blood began to spill down his cheeks. Hyde felt a wetness on his own cheeks but couldn't move to touch and see.

No. He could move – of course he could. It just... It just wasn't worth checking was all. He knew what he would find, after all. No point in moving, that was all it was. No... No point at all...

His reflection collapsed to its knees, placed its face in its hands and began to sob, red tears leaking between its fingers and an ugly weeping noise echoing around the room.

"I'm sorry."

His reflection mumbled between its fingers with a voice filled with pain and regret.

"I'm sorry."

Hyde scowled at it. "Stop apologizing," He told it.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry. This is my fault."

Hyde gave it a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"I'm rotten." The voice wavered and cracked from emotion. "They could all see it. That's why... That's why I thought they would be better off without me. I should have left them a body or a note but I didn't-" The thing sobbed and the blood began to pour between its fingers in a torrent. Despite this, when it spoke, its voice rang clearly, filling the whole room and echoing in Hyde's ears. "I didn't leave them anything and now they can't move on because they don't know I'm gone and it's all my fault! I was too rotten to think about what this would do to them and now they'll never get closure!"

"I'm not gone, I'm right here." Hyde protested.

The blood was beginning to fill the room now. It lapped at Edward's feet and clawed at the walls. Edward could now see that the cabinets were filled with eyes, they were all staring at him, judgingly. Hyde cringed away from their stares.

"...Stop." He commanded. For some reason though, his voice was barely a whisper and he couldn't speak any louder. His body was starting to shake without him, a trembling that started in the knees and spread upwards until it reached his voice. "S-Stop. Please. Stop staring at me."

He stepped back again, eyes darting from cabinet to cabinet. They were all staring. They all hated him. They wanted him gone.

"...I... I... It wasn't my fault. You wouldn't participate, what was I supposed to do? I... I didn't let you down! You preferred her over me! You chose _her_ over me! What did she have that I didn't?! Fame? A monster?! I sheltered you, gave you a place to live, gave you funding! I PUT EVERYTHING INTO THIS, YOU RUINED IT, NOT ME!" A sob forced itself from his throat. He knew he was yelling but he didn't care. He just wanted them to stop staring, stop judging, just stop. "IT'S NOT MY FAULT!"

"It's my fault." His reflection continued, repeating it over and over until it rang in Hyde's head, a drumming that drowned out all else.

"I DID ALL I COULD!"

"It's my fault."

"I COULDN'T HAVE DONE BETTER!"

"It's my fault."

"I- I didn't mean to-"

"It's my fault."

"...Why do they care?"

"It's my fault."

"Why would they care about me..?"

"It's my fault."

"I thought they would be happier without me."

"It's my fault."

"Why can't they be? Why can't they let it go?"

"It's my fault."

"They didn't like me, not really."

"It's _all_ my fault."

Hyde sat on the floor and tugged his knees, pressing his face against them as the tears continued to flow. He hiccuped a bit but, otherwise, his tears were silent.

"Why can't I do anything right? Even when I try to remove myself, to make them happier, I do it wrong."

He sniffed. "At least, even if Rachel and Lanyon are unhappy, the lodgers will be glad. I'm sure _they'll_ be pleased. Frankenstein too. She would say this is the first good thing I've done in my life. I wish I could have made everyone happy, though..."

"Hyde?"

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, Edward?"

"Sorry."

"Edward! Snap out of it!"

Hyde yelped as he felt two hands grip his shoulders and start shaking him violently. He clawed his way out of the embrace and fell backwards, blinking in the light of the bathroom again. To his surprise, Lanyon was bent over him with a look of concern flickering in his eyes.

It wasn't something that most people would recognize but someone who knew him would easily be able to see the worry there. Lanyon was pretty good at hiding his emotions after all. Hyde, in a blind panic, didn't even wonder how he could recognize such a thing in a man he barely knew.

Hyde shot into a sitting position and looked around, trying to see the eyes again. The walls were bare without even a speck of crimson. "Where are they?!"

"What?"

"The eyes! The eyes!" It was Hyde's turn to grip Lanyon by the shoulders and shake him, "Where did they go?!"

"What? What eyes?!"

"The lodgers', of course! Why can't they leave me alone? Haven't I done enough for them?! Haven't I given enough for them?!"

Lanyon blinked, an unusual expression on his face. Finally, he gripped Hyde and spun him to face him.

"Edward. There are no eyes. Nobody's watching you." He spoke firmly, staring Hyde in the eye. "Understand?"

"I- I-"

"Understand? Breathe. Deep breaths."

Hyde inhaled deeply, under Lanyon's instruction. Lanyon made gestures with his hands, showing Hyde when to inhale and when to exhale. With each breath, Hyde became more and more aware of reality, the hallucinations fading to the air of a bad dream.

Finally, Hyde found himself completely calmed down. He took one last gulp of air before assuring Lanyon that he was good now.

Lanyon sighed in relief and let go of Hyde, stepping back. "Do you... Want to talk about it?"

Hyde thought of the eyes again and, feeling that stab of fear again, shook his head violently.

"What are you doing here?" Hyde asked, taking in the bathroom. The mirror had steamed up again and Hyde wondered how long he had been in there.

"I heard you yelling." Lanyon shrugged, "I was worried you were going to die on me or something and you're my only lead on Henry so..." He trailed off, not looking Edward in the eyes. His face was flushed. "...By the way, you should put on some clothes."

Hyde blinked and then slowly remembered that he was stark naked.

"Don't you like what you see?"

Lanyon shoved Hyde away and strode towards the door, "Take that bath or wear clothes. I'll be waiting outside for when you're done."

"Aww! You sure you don't want more of a peek? I'm willing to give you a guided tour! Free of charge!"

Lanyon slammed the door shut, leaving Hyde in the bathroom.

  
  


Once the door was closed, Lanyon stood there for several seconds, a blank look on his face.

A second passed.

Two seconds.

Lanyon turned stiffly.

He walked down the corridor, hands twitching. His breaths wanted to be quicker, shallower, but he forced himself to breathe normally.

Finally, he was out of earshot. He turned and pressed his back hard into the wall. He slid down it until he was sat in a ball, unable to move. His body shook and, when he breathed, his breaths were shuddering, choked. He pressed his hands over his mouth, stifling a sob.

It was the same. It was the _same_. Jesus Christ, why was it the _same_?

In his minds eye was an image of a garden, tulips and Jekyll's terrified face. He could still hear that voice, delirious with fright, ringing in his ears.

Superimposed over that image now was an image of Edward Hyde's pale face.

Edward Hyde's panicking reminded him all too much of Jekyll's episode in the garden. In that moment with Hyde, all he had been able to see was that terrified look on Jekyll's face, his talk of Moreau and rottenness.

Lanyon squeezed his eyes shut, betrayed at his own emotions. He clenched his fists until the knuckles went white.

No, it didn't matter if he hated Hyde or not. He wasn't failing in that way again. God be damned, he wasn't letting what happened to Jekyll to happen to Hyde.

  
  


It was, after all, what Henry would have wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question because I'm not sure: Is Teen a good age rating for this fic? I'm never certain what pushes a teen fic to a mature fic.  
> This chapter's probably a bit too much crying and reassuring - There should have only been one scene for that instead of two (Three if you count Lanyon and Hyde but that was a bit different) - but removing an entire scene would kill me inside. 
> 
> Also, I don't know, for the life of me, how Frankenstein would react to this? I mean, she hated Jekyll but would she hate him THAT much? Would she care if he disappeared or not? How deeply does her resentment run?  
> At the very least, I imagine she cares for the lodgers as fellow mad scientists so, even if she hated Jekyll, she would feel bad about how it affects the lodgers.


	5. Relationships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio try to ask the lodgers for help but things don't go to plan. Lanyon starts getting oddly nicer to Hyde.  
> Hyde remembers something.

"You sure this is such a good idea?" Edward frowned at Rachel who just nodded enthusiastically in return. The pair were standing in Lanyon’s house just at the door. Rachel had fetched some of Hyde’s actual clothes so he no longer had to wear Jekyll’s oversized clothing. Hyde seemed a little more comfortable now that he didn’t trip over his pant legs every five minutes and his hat gave him a bit more height. Understandably, he hated his short size.

"The society is filled with all sorts of scientists. One of them has to be able to identify a potion that Jekyll had. Heck, one of them might have made it." Rachel grinned, clearly proud at herself for the idea.

"What if one of them turns me in?" Hyde adjusted his hat.

Rachel puffed up like a mother hen, "Then they'll have to go through me."

Before Hyde could say anything more, the door opened and Lanyon strolled in, twirling his keys on one finger with a relaxed, confident air, "I'm coming with."

Rachel placed her hands on her hips and glared at Lanyon who returned her glare, still twirling the keys. Neither backed down.

"Why?" Rachel asked.

"Hyde's still my only ticket to finding Jekyll. I'm not letting him get caught by the police either."

Several more seconds of their tense staring contest as Lanyon silently dared her to say he couldn't come. Hyde stood at the side awkwardly.

"Fine." Rachel huffed at last, "But he's staying close to me."

"Don't trust me?"

"No."

More glaring. Hyde huffed from the side, glancing at the clock on the wall impatiently.

"...Are you two done?" Hyde asked when nobody said anything else, eyebrow raised.

"We are." Lanyon replied primly. He smiled at Edward with a suspicious level of friendliness that put Hyde on edge.

Edward shuffled closer to Rachel.

  
  


"Just a warning before we go in." Rachel piped up when they reached the society. The trio was stood outside, looking up at the building in the low light of the morning, "They've heard about Jekyll's disappearance and they're pretty upset." Her eyes slid to Lanyon, "They might be looking for a certain co-leader for guidance right now."

Lanyon wrinkled his nose, "Don't they know I have more pressing things on my mind right now?"

" _Everyone's_ upset about Henry." She shot him a sharp look, "But they're also upset that the society might go down."

Lanyon spluttered in indignation at that. "Oh, they're upset about _the society?_ _They're_ the reason the society's in danger! _They're_ probably the reason that Jekyll's missing!"

"I thought you were blaming Hyde?!"

"I can have multiple theories, Rachel! And there can be multiple reasons for a man to run off!"

"He-" Rachel's voice died in her throat and her next words were a strangled whisper, "He wouldn't run away."

Lanyon winced when he saw the tears forming in Rachel's eyes. He didn't meet her eyes. "...I have reason to believe he could have. Jekyll... Jekyll's mental state hasn't been all that great lately..."

"You keep saying things like that. What do you mean by that?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"...Never mind." Lanyon made to go in but Rachel caught his arm and pulled him back.

"You're not going anywhere! You know something I don't, don’t you?!"

Lanyon stared at Rachel for a long time. He glanced at Hyde who was still watching them from the side with an unreadable expression.

Not in front of him. This was personal information about Jekyll, whether or not Hyde was possibly going through the same thing. He wasn’t giving that little brat anymore blackmail material against Jekyll’s good name.

"I'll tell you later, just not in front of that... Thing."

Hyde scowled.

Rachel crossed her arms. "Fine." She spun on her heel and threw open the doors, striding in. Hyde and Lanyon trailed behind her.

It was dark inside. The only light spilled in from the open doors, the trio silhouetted in the light of day. It was uncomfortably silent.

Rachel was the first to step in, striding with purpose. Hyde and Lanyon glanced nervously at each other before trailing after.

Their steps echoed in the open space. Rachel's steps were assured and loud while Hyde and Lanyon walked with a lot more hesitance, quieter steps in the space, both fearful of making noise and attracting attention.

Lanyon was already dreading meeting the lodgers and being forced to answer their questions.

Hyde didn’t quite know what he was dreading yet but he knew something was off.

Rachel ruined the silence by yelling out at the top of her lungs, "Hey! Where is everyone? We need some help here!"

Lanyon and Hyde flinched in union. Her voice rang clear in the space, echoing several times off the walls.

The echoes died and, for a second, they were left in silence and dark.

Then, at last, there was the grinding of gears and mechanisms and the room lit up. They blinked in the new light, eyes adjusting. Hyde pulled the rim of his hat further over his face to try to shield himself from the blinding light.

A group of lodgers were entering the room in a steadily building crowd around the trio.

Their facial expressions were a mix of misery, curiosity and stern with the occasional expression that Lanyon couldn't quite read but probably didn't mean anything good.

Lanyon cringed back, waiting for the inevitable questioning. He didn't want to be there. He would rather be anywhere else.

His eyes flicked from lodger to lodger, tension building in his body.

Then, his eyes caught on Edward and his self-concern was cut off in an instant.

The shorter man had another one of his weird expressions again.

His eyes were large and round, the whites showing clearly, and his skin had grown pale. He looked... Scared. Angry. Upset. His body trembled and tears glistened in the corner of his vision.

_The eyes of the lodgers..._

Lanyon recalled Hyde's strange breakdown in the bathroom as he stared out across the crowd.

Too many people staring at Hyde.

Too many _eyes_.

Could he get Hyde out without him breaking down? The crowd seemed too big for that. There was no way he could slip Hyde out without raising questions and attracting attention – Attention that could cause Hyde to shatter.

What to do, what to do..?

His eyes caught on the person at the front of their group and an idea began to form.

Rachel. Rachel cared about Hyde.

If Lanyon distracted the crowd – something he could do if Rachel was right about them wanting to speak to the co-leader for guidance – Rachel could take Hyde somewhere quieter. Give him time to calm down.

Lanyon, mind made up, pushed forward with all the confidence and authority he could muster. When he was passing Rachel, he whispered in her ear, "Deal with Hyde." and stood at the head of the trio.

Rachel opened her mouth, about to ask, annoyed, what he meant by that. Then her eyes fell upon Hyde. His shaking was beginning to reach violent levels and his breathing was short, sharp bursts.

Her motherly instincts kicked in immediately. She snuck to him as fast as she could and, hand reassuringly on his shoulder, she began to herd him away. Hyde seemed in a haze, not even aware of Rachel, his eyes fixed on the crowd. His steps were stumbling and she had to keep him from tripping more than once.

"What's the meaning of this?" The cries started up. The lodger who spoke, Archer, was holding Jekyll's missing poster up, waving it to make sure Lanyon could see it. "Is Jekyll really missing?!"

Lanyon took a breath, continuing to hate people, and spoke up calmly, "Yes. Jekyll's gone missing. We don't have any leads as of yet. He went missing just after the exhibition."

"How is the society going to survive without him?"

"Are you going to pick up after him?"

"Are you going to abandon us?"

"Is the society shutting down?"

"Where are we going to go?"

"Is there any way we can help find him?"

Lanyon's eye twitched. He was glad to see Rachel gently taking Hyde away from the crowd out of the corner of his vision. The bad news was they couldn't bring up their reason for showing up anymore. Not with Hyde in such a state. To put the spotlight on him now would definitely cause him to crack.

"We don't have the funds to keep the society running." Lanyon said bluntly. "That's what the exhibition was for."

An outcry.

"WHAT?!"

"Why wouldn't you tell us it was that important?!"

"But how?!"

"We told you it was important, didn't we?" Lanyon glared. His temper was rising and all he could think about was how the lodgers had been the cause of Jekyll's downfall. This was their fault and here they were acting as though they couldn't have seen this coming.

"You didn't say the financial situation was _that_ bad!"

Lanyon ground his teeth together. In his minds eye, he could see Jekyll again. His distress, the way he had put so much into the society. The way his mental health had been crumbling before the lodgers.

Worse, a fate that seemed to be shared by Hyde at that moment.

Had they done something to Hyde as well? What on Earth had the lodgers done to the both of them?

"Jekyll insisted we didn't tell you. He didn't want to worry you."

Another outcry. Rachel and Edward were gone now so Robert could relax a bit.

"If it was that important-!"

"Isn't there some way we can fix it?!"

"So you're just giving up?"

Lanyon opened his mouth to say that 'Yes, the society would be shutting down' but then closed it again with a wince. Jekyll wouldn't be happy if he did return to find that Lanyon had dropped his life's work in a heartbeat.

On the other hand, he couldn't see how they would ever keep the society running after this. There were no funds.

"We don't have the funds to keep the society running." He repeated, "I don't want the society to shut down but I don't have any other option. Unless I can think of some other way to get funding-"

"Can't we redo the exhibition?"

"Do you know how long it took to set up that exhibition? Advertise for it? People won't come a second time knowing they've been blown off before."

The room burst into clamour again. Lanyon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long day.

  
  


Rachel was waiting for him when he finally fought off the lodger's questions. She was standing outside one of the spare rooms, pacing. When she saw him approach, she practically ran at him.

Dealing with the lodgers had been difficult to say the least. It took a ridiculous amount of questions that usually came with the same answers.

"We don't have the funds."

"That's impossible."

"For the love of God, NO! BLOWING UP THE TAX COMPANY WILL NOT HELP!"

He was kind of worried about what the society would do to get those funds on their own. At least he could rest easy knowing he had done the best to explain to them why they couldn't do anything illegal to get funding.

"How's Edward?" Lanyon asked, not bothering to tell Rachel how the impromptu Q&A session had gone.

"Calmed down. He's sleeping in a spare room right now." She gestured to the room they were stood next to. Then she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Lanyon, foot tapping against the floor. "Explanations. Now."

"I don't know much more than you do. Hyde had some kind of breakdown in the bathroom yesterday. I heard him screaming and-" Lanyon choked slightly on the words. He quickly recomposed himself, "He was curled up in a ball, ranting about the lodgers watching him and judging him."

"And you didn't think to mention this _before_ we went to see the lodgers?!" Rachel's eyes gleamed with a vicious light.

Lanyon, who had come along partially for the reason of keeping an eye on Hyde, just shrugged. He doubted Hyde would have let him tell Rachel about such a moment of weakness knowing Hyde's personality. Besides, he had thought that maybe Edward could make it through – he hadn't anticipated such a crowd.

"...There's more." He could feel his legs start to tremble again and he tried to crush the rising emotions in his throat.

Rachel raised an eyebrow at him, arms still crossed.

"It's... The same." The words caught in his throat and he cursed his own weakness. "It's the same as Henry."

"...What do you mean..?"

Lanyon took a deep breath and, hating the sting of salty water in the corners of his eyes, recounted the incident in the garden with Jekyll. Rachel became paler with every word. His vision blurred and he blinked it away, rubbing his eyes and feeling the way his hand came away wet.

There were several moments of silence as Lanyon composed himself and Rachel absorbed what she had learnt.

"Henry _hit_ you?" Her voice was a horrified whisper, "But he wouldn't-"

"I know. It was completely out of character. Edward didn't hit me but it was the same behaviour. The ranting, the paleness. God, Rachel, all I could see in that moment was Jekyll," He threw his hands up in the air, "And it comes back to the lodgers both times! I knew Jekyll was breaking down because of the exhibition and the insults and the-" A shuddering breath. A moment to calm himself. "...But what did they do to Edward? Why's _he_ so upset at them?"

"...The lodgers wouldn't..." Rachel trailed off. "...This is what you meant, isn't it? When you said that Henry might not be aware of himself?"

"He was seeing things that weren't there. What would have happened if I hadn't shown up when I did? Where would he go? _When_ would he have come back to _himself?_ " A choked breath, "What if it happened again and, this time, I wasn't there to snap him out of it?"

Rachel processed the information. While Lanyon was trying desperately to fight back his tears, Rachel had no such qualms. She sobbed, hands over her mouth.

"...It makes sense." She admitted in a shaky voice, "It makes sense as a theory... But surely someone would have found him by now?"

"We don't know how far he might have gone. He could be out of the city already."

"Edward..." Rachel's eyes hardened, "I'm not letting this happen to him. I'm not letting you turn him into the police or-"

Lanyon raised a hand to quiet her. "Rachel. I failed Henry once. I may not like Hyde but I'm not failing in that way again. If I can help Hyde now then, maybe, when Henry shows himself again, I'll know how to help him too."

"...That's why you wanted to come. You wanted to help Edward."

"Not out of any love for the guy. I still hate him." Lanyon quickly pushed away the emotional moment, "It'll just be an experiment. What to do, what not to do, that sort of thing. Hyde's the guinea pig."

Rachel gave him a dubious look, "...Sure... Anyway, we need to figure out why Hyde feels this way towards the lodgers."

Lanyon gritted his teeth, "Why Henry and Edward both felt that way towards them..."

"...I feel like you’re accusing the lodgers of something..?"

"I don't know yet. I thought Jekyll was breaking down from pressure but what if it wasn't? What if one of the lodgers performed some..." He flapped his hand, trying to think of a good word, "Some sick experiment on Henry. Hyde too. What if they did something that caused Jekyll to disappear? I'm sure one of those damned contraptions of theirs could cause a person to disappear!" He was on a roll now, practically ranting as his mind connected dots, "Griffin's been trying to turn things invisible! Imagine if it could kill a person? You would end up with an invisible corpse! And all those- Those massive monsters that the lodgers keep! I'm sure one could swallow a person whole without a trace! What if-"

"That's enough. The lodgers may have disliked Jekyll but they wouldn't use him as a test subject. They certainly wouldn't have harmed Hyde."

"Speaking of Hyde," Lanyon recomposed himself, pushing back his conspiracy theories, "Has he said anything so far?"

"No."

"So when he wakes up, we ask him-"

"No." Rachel shot Lanyon a harsh look. "If he's that upset, I don't want to dredge up whatever's making him feel this way. He could have another breakdown."

"So what do you suggest we do?"

"What we came here to do." She pulled out the potion bottle again and dangled it in front of Lanyon, "Ask questions."

  
  


_Why are the lodgers upset? Didn't I give them what they want?_

Everything was kind of a haze. Green dripped from outstretched fingers. Many, many eyes watched.

_They wanted me gone so why are they upset?_

The eyes filled with tears. They weren't judgmental anymore. Scared. Sad.

_Why aren't they happy?_

Red mingled with green.

_Did I miscalculate? Where did I go wrong? What have I done to everyone?_

There was more green than red. It overtook the red, salt drifting through the glass and dissolving in bursts of luminous green.

_Why am I such a screw up? I can't do anything right._

A bird cage. Empty. The bird long since freed and, yet, unhappy.

_Is it my fault?_

Green. Red.

Feathers.

Fine strands, stiff and pristine, fluffier down feathers nestled beneath. Shades of viridian and crimson, bright and splendid. Wings large and glorious, beating against the air.

A bird once with a song and voice that could charm masses, now hoarse and quiet.

A bird once beautiful and beloved by all, now unrecognizable by even the closest of friends.

A bird once green and red, now only green.

"Jekyll?"

The bird sat miserably in a pile of its own feathers. The cherry coloured feathers now scattered across the floor like specks of blood.

Each feather of crimson plucked meticulously by its own beak.

Cleansed of the red, cleansed of what it hated in itself.

Except, without the feathers there, it couldn't fly any longer.

Free of the cage, trapped by its own design.

Unhappy.

"Please come back."

No response. Bird song echoing in an empty room.

"It's not too late. Just come back to us."

_I'm not Jekyll. Dr Jekyll is dead._

"You're alive."

_I am. He isn't._

"Please come to reason."

_My thinking is fine._

"You know who you are. You just won't acknowledge it. You refuse to see the truth."

_I see perfectly fine._

A flap. A jump. A fall.

_If only I could have seen the truth before it was too late._

Falling. Falling. Falling. A trail of feathers in the wake.

_...They did care about me, didn't they? And I was too blind to see it before._

In the trail of green feathers, floating in the air after the fall.

...A single feather of red.

"Henry, _please_ wake up!"

  
  


Edward Hyde woke up.

He pushed himself to a sitting position in the bed, rubbed his eyes and looked around. He couldn't quite remember his dream but he remembered those eyes again and something weird to do with birds and feathers. He grumbled slightly, rolling off the bed.

It was as he stood up that he realized that something had changed in his mind.

It was a glimmer of a memory – so small and useless – but he clutched onto it like a rope over a sheer cliff.

He remembered Jekyll's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Me clutching armfuls of bird metaphors for any and all Jekyll and Hyde characters* ...I can explain.


	6. Hopes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation continues.  
> Hyde sways a crowd.

Ito peered curiously at the glass in Rachel's hands. She gently took it and squinted at the liquid from all angles. It was only a few stray drops but the luminous green hue of the fluid made it obvious to see.

"You say this was in Jekyll's lab?"

Rachel nodded.

The pair of them were alone in Ito’s lab. Ito had taken the news of Jekyll's disappearance a little more stoically than the others but Rachel could easily see the pained look in her eyes.

Ito had, somewhat shakily, picked up the role of leader from Jekyll. She clearly wasn’t adjusted to the task though. The best she could do was keep the lodgers from falling apart or committing any crimes. Saving the society was, unfortunately, a different matter entirely that no-one knew how to deal with.

"Do you recognize it?"

"No." Ito frowned, "I've never seen anything like it around the society at all. I can't tell what it could be made of or what the intended effect is. What did it do?"

"Apparently it nearly killed Hyde."

Ito's eyebrows shot up.

"And it erased some of his memories." Rachel continued, matter-of-factly, "He doesn't remember Jekyll at all."

Ito blinked and stared thoughtfully at the glass for a few minutes, brow furrowed. Finally, she placed the glass down on her desk and looked Rachel directly in the eyes.

"Are the memories of Jekyll the only memories erased?"

"...I can't tell."

She had her suspicions.

If Jekyll was Hyde's dad, it would explain why Hyde didn't remember his parents.

If Jekyll was the one who hid Hyde for the past week, it would explain why Hyde couldn't remember where he had been hiding.

It was a few 'Ifs' but, if they added up...

"It's entirely possible." Rachel finished. "Why? Do you have an idea?"

"There's something awfully suspicious that Dr Jekyll would vanish the moment he vanished from the memories of another. I feel like there's a connection there but I can't figure it out." She smiled sardonically, “Even after all my years in a building of people trying to raise the dead or time travel on a daily basis, I can’t put my finger on it.”

"Lanyon thought that Hyde knew something before he lost his memories."

"He's probably on the right track." Ito pursed her lips. She thought for a second and then, slowly, began to speak, "My theory is that the potion is a memory eraser – Something created to erase specific memories from a person's mind. How it chooses a specific target is unknown to me but, if something happened to Jekyll that Hyde wanted to forget, something linked to his disappearance, he might have chosen this potion as the means to do so."

So nothing new. It was the same theories as before.

"I'll look into the potion, try to figure out what it's made of and what it does. I could be wrong, after all." Ito glanced again at the drops in the bottle, “It won’t be easy with so little to go off of but hopefully I can get something.”

"Have you seen memory erasers before?"

"None so specific. Potions are generally wide-area effect. If it was designed to erase memories, it should have erased all of Edward's memories, not just Jekyll. It's awfully strange." She looked down at her feet, an unreadable expression on her face. When she spoke, her voice was uncharacteristically low. "...Do you think Jekyll made it?"

"It certainly looks that way. I've seen the glass used to store the potion several times in his office. It's usually for a red potion though so he must have replaced-"

"Why would Jekyll make it?"

Rachel stopped. She blinked slowly, realization dawning on her. They had been so focused on the potion's effects, nobody had ever considered _why_ Jekyll would have such a thing. Why would Jekyll have a potion to erase memories?

...What did he use it for?

"Lately, there seems to be a lot of things about Jekyll we didn't know before." Ito continued, "He was always just the gentleman who took us in for some charity work but now we're finding out that he was suffering with funding, putting everything into keeping this society afloat for unknown reasons, that he was the type to make and keep a memory erasing potion – One that to make would be far beyond the ability of most scientists."

"He genuinely cared about the society, that's why." Rachel said softly.

"Yes. I see that now." Ito replied with equal measure of softness, "I wonder what else we didn't know about him."

Rachel thought about Lanyon's recount of Jekyll's breakdown. She wasn't going to tell them about that but she could certainly agree that there was more to Jekyll than they knew about.

Apparently there were some things about Jekyll that even _she_ hadn't known before.

  
  


Lanyon knocked with uncharacteristic gentleness on the door, stepping back to wait for a response.

"Who is it?" A snappish voice came from the other side.

"Robert Lanyon."

A moment of silence, then a huff and, "Come in."

Lanyon pushed open the door and stepped in, closing the door quietly behind him. Hyde was sat at a desk, pencil in hand, scrawling something on a sheet of paper. His tongue was poked out, deep in thought and his legs were being kicked back and forth, the act amusingly childlike.

As Lanyon approached, Hyde glanced up for a second before hurriedly scratching in several more lines. He violently thrust the sheet into Lanyon's face. Lanyon blinked, pulling away to see the picture as his eyes adjusted to what he was looking at.

To his surprise, it was a crude drawing of Jekyll's face.

Despite the sketchiness of the drawing, it was surprisingly detailed. He had perfectly caught the clean angles of his side-burns, the way his hair was swept across his face.

In the picture, Jekyll's eyes were closed and he was expressionless in a way that chillingly reminded Lanyon of a corpse. Lanyon shuddered.

"I remember him. I remember what he looked like." Hyde ranted, gesturing violently at the paper, practically hitting it, "This is him, isn't it? This is Dr Jekyll?"

"...You..." Lanyon's mind took several seconds to catch up and then he exploded into life, "You remember Jekyll?! Do you remember what happened!? Do you know where he is?!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself." Hyde grunted miserably, "I just remember his face. I also kind of remember him being a stuck up prude."

"Kind of?"

"...I vaguely remember arguing with him at some point. I don't remember what about, just that it happened in that office of his, Jekyll was a stuck up prude and there was a mirror."

"...Why is that important?"

Hyde bit his lip. "...I don't know but I feel like it was important."

"Somehow, I doubt that."

A long moment of silence.

"...The lodgers..."

Lanyon jolted sharply. His eyes fixed on Edward, looking for any sign that he was about to have another fit. Hyde, however, was completely calm, although he didn’t look at Lanyon as he spoke and spoke with a softness that was strange coming from him.

"...Do they really care about Jekyll? I thought they hated him?"

"It's..." Lanyon's voice died in his throat. The answer seemed so obvious to him – Of course they hated him, why else would they behave in such a way towards him. Somehow though, when he opened his mouth, he hesitated.

...Did they?

He had taken their panic earlier as a fear born of self-preservation but... But wasn't there something else to it as well? A glimmer of mourning in their eyes?

Was he imagining things or did they _really_ care?

"...I guess..." Lanyon said, more to himself than to Hyde, "...I guess it's more complicated than it seems."

Hyde sat in silence for several more seconds before leaping to his feet, "I want to see them."

Lanyon yelped in surprise, catching Hyde by the collar just before he could sprint out the door. "Oh no you don't!"

"What?! Why not?!"

"Because Rachel will kill me if you have a God damned mental breakdown in front of the entire God forsaken society -Wha- Ow! Hey!"

Hyde, in Lanyon's speech had swung around to land a bite on Lanyon's arm causing the taller man to yell in pain and surprise, dropping Hyde. Edward sprinted out the door and threw himself down the corridor.

Lanyon swore loudly and ran after Hyde. The shorter man, however, was more used to physical exertion and outstripped Lanyon quickly. He burst into a larger room, Lanyon helpless to stop him. In front of a dozen people, something that had caused him to break down only the day before, he threw open his arms dramatically.

"Guess who's back?!"

The lodgers in the room looked up and, one by one, their gloomy faces lit up.

"Hyde!" Cantilupe was the first to speak up. She was smiling but a look of bewilderment was also apparent in her face. "...You're kind of wanted by the police, is it such a good idea for you to be here?"

"You know, that's what I said."

To Lanyon's surprise, Hyde threw himself into the group with ease, landing with cat-like grace on a chair in between the lodgers. He stood there for several seconds, watching Hyde effortless chat and laugh with the other lodgers as though nothing was wrong.

What had changed?

Hyde remembered a bit of Jekyll now but it didn't feel like that was the cause of his change in behaviour.

If Lanyon were crazy, he would almost say that it was the reveal that the lodgers didn't really hate Jekyll that had soothed his fears.

But that was ridiculous. Why would the lodgers opinion of Jekyll matter to Hyde?

Even more surprising, Hyde's presence seemed to lighten the entire room. The gloom and distress had abated like Hyde – the criminal who had burned down half of London, slept with every girl he could and was possibly blackmailing Jekyll – was a ray of sunshine in their lives.

It didn't make sense.

"Where have you been all this time?!" Archer asked.

Hyde waved a dismissive hand, "Here. There. You know, places."

"How have you been hiding from the police?"

"A true criminal doesn't reveal his hiding spots." Hyde put a finger to his lips conspiratorially.

"Did you hear about Jekyll?"

Hyde merely snorted at their miserable faces, "He'll show up eventually. Trust me, I _wish_ he would stay away for good."

"But the society-"

"The society isn't the leader or the building," Hyde cut in. There was a glint in his eye as he spoke, admiration and excitement, "It's the people."

Murmuring of agreement.

...He really did have a weird way of swaying the crowd.

Annoyingly, it reminded Lanyon of Frankenstein. Hyde spoke in the same impassioned way. Even the whole 'people' thing sounded like something Frankenstein would say. His stomach roiled and he was reminded why he hated Hyde.

"...That doesn't really help with finances." Jasper piped up. He realized that everyone was looking at him and, with a squeak, fell silent.

"It's a good point." Lavender cut in, "We can have passion and people but that doesn't keep the funding and housing."

A murmur of unease in the crowd again. Lanyon was ready to run forward and draw Edward out when he broke down again but, yet again surprising Lanyon, Hyde just laughed.

"Is that the attitude of mad scientists?" He leapt onto a nearby table, eyes shining with manic glee, "This isn't the end, with or without Jekyll! Would Jekyll want you to lose hope so quick? He put his heart and soul into this society and he would hate to know you gave up immediately!"

"But what can we do?"

Hyde spread out an arm, his cape billowing around him, "The Blackfog Bazaar!" He spoke clearly, "Many mad scientists sell their wares there – why can't we? Even if we bumped off the general public once with the first exhibition, there are those in London’s darkest streets who would pay good money to see the experiments of those here. Moreover, nobody here has to hide the worst of their experiments just to please the public! You can show what you please without fear – Heck, the worse, the better, aye? I’m proposing a second grand exhibition, this time for London’s criminal underbelly! Who’s with me?!"

The crowd buzzed into life. The majority of the lodgers were thrilled at the idea while some of the more anxious doubtfully poked holes in the idea.

"That's not enough to keep the society running!" Griffin called out, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, "A building like this will take more than that to survive."

"But it will be enough to skim by." Hyde spun on the table, grinning, "And, in the end, that's all that matters – keeping the building standing until Jekyll gets back! Besides, the money from the original exhibition wasn’t going to keep us floating forever anyway."

"What if Jekyll can't help? Or what if he doesn't come back at all?"

"Then we'll find another way to skim by. So long as we last another day, we can keep getting by until things get better." Hyde leaned forward, perched on the edge of the table to beam at Griffin with all the energy of a trickster god. "Someday, things will change. You guys can't really give up at the first sight of adversary! Did you give up the first time someone said the words 'Impossible'? Did you give up the first time someone said it was 'ethically wrong'? No! You stood up and, even if you were just skimming by, you got by!" His voice rang clear in the space like a performer. Lanyon didn't believe any of what he was saying but Hyde spoke with so much passion and conviction that it was impossible not to be caught under the sway.

Once again reminded of Frankenstein, Lanyon's lip curled.

The crowd was silent so, clenching his hand into a fist and raising it, Hyde cried out, "Am I right?!"

A cheer.

Lanyon groaned.

  
  


Hyde didn't understand himself a lot since losing his memories.

There was something uncomfortable in his chest while talking to the lodgers. It was a strange mixture of fear, bitterness and contentment.

He hated the way he felt. He had always liked the lodgers, they were kindred spirits after all. He never had a boring conversation with them or had anything more than a small petty fight.

Now, however, his stomach churned in their company. He wanted to yell at them, to break down crying, to beg for forgiveness. He wanted to see them hurt while he simultaneously wanted to apologize until his voice went hoarse.

When one of them opened their mouth to speak, he felt himself tense, preparing for a verbal onslaught. When one lifted a hand too quickly, he flinched.

He was thankful that not one of them seemed to notice a thing but that was to be expected. He _was_ a master of deceit, after all.

Lanyon was keeping a close eye on him from the side, clearly worried that he would panic again. Not because he cared, of course, merely so he wouldn't get chewed out by Rachel.

Hyde was, reluctantly, thankful of his presence. He felt like he would break down again at any moment.

He had to hold it together though. For the lodgers. That was why he wasn't going to bring up his amnesia – No reason to add more to their plates after all, they were upset enough as it was.

Why did he have to feel so weird about his friends? Why did he have to be such a rotten person?

Hyde quickly shook the thought from his head. He couldn't start thinking like that again.

"Oh yeah!" Lavender piped up suddenly, realization lighting up her face, "Hyde hasn't seen Frankenstein awake yet, has he?"

Frankenstein?

"She's awake?" He asked, ignoring the way his stomach had just violently twisted.

"She's been awake for a while now." Archer grinned, "And she's nowhere near as morose as the stories make her out to be."

"She socked Jekyll in the face when she first woke up." Cantilupe giggled but there was a slight flicker of strain on her face at the mention of the name.

Hyde's cheek flared in phantom pain. His eye twitched but he was careful to keep his face cheery.

"And she's been trying to escape since she woke up! She practically has to be tied to the bed!"

A round of sniggers. Hyde joined in half-heartedly.

"You'll like her." Archer finished, "Want to meet her?"

Hyde bit the inside of his mouth.

No, no, no! Not her. Not her. Not her.

Please not her. Anything but her.

_"You're rotten on the inside."_

_"Industrialist slut"_

_"You're not a real scientist."_

Pain. A bruise on the cheek. Mockery from the lodgers. The ruining of his life's work.

Tears spilling down his cheeks. A wretched howling cry that he knew he was making but couldn't stop. His memories spilling from his head like sand in a broken hourglass. His own awareness slipping through his fingers, a mere liquid in his grip.

His memories. His friends. His _death._

She was the reason. She was the bloody reason-!

"Edward?"

"-No." He said bluntly. His eyes weren't focused on anything in particular – he was too caught up in his own head for that. His fingers gripped the cloth of his trousers, letting the nails bite into his legs. "I don't."

He blinked and the moment was over.

Just like that, he couldn't even remember what he had been thinking of.

His eyes refocused on the lodgers who were all staring at him with looks of concern. He hated those looks, hated them. The room was quickly becoming too small and he knew he had to leave.

"Are you ok?" Bird asked.

"Fine." Hyde snorted, standing abruptly, "I have places to be. Thank you for the company. Goodbye."

He strode straight for Lanyon who was already stood stiffly, eyes wide.

"I've had enough of here, I'm going back to my room."

"I'll show you back-"

"I can find my own way, thank you." His stare at Lanyon was cutting. Robert quavered under the look and allowed him to pass without another word.

In front of all the staring lodgers, Hyde left. The door swung shut behind him, leaving the room silent in his wake.

  
  


_Why would you do that? They're suffering enough as it is and you just made it worse._

"She would know. She would take one look at me and know."

_You're being a burden to them. Why can't you just be a good person for once?_

"She would know who I was. She would mock me again. She would tell everyone and they would hate me again."

_It would have been better if you were never born._

"I can't lose them. Not to her. Things were just starting to get better."

_Maybe she's right. Maybe you are rotten on the inside._

"I am." Hyde admitted, "But I don't want them to know that."

He curled up on the bed and, memories already leaking out of his head again, fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The very last scene doesn't feel right to me but it feels even worse to just let the chapter cut off like that.  
> On the bright side, I've wanted to write a scene for a while where Hyde inadvertently steps into Jekyll's shoes as leader. Lanyon was going to compare Hyde to Jekyll at that point but then I realized he was talking much more like Frankenstein.


	7. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frankenstein nearly solves the entire mystery. Rachel accidently gives Hyde false memories. Ito finds new pieces of the puzzle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning in this chapter for somewhat of a reverse oedipus complex?  
> I don't know what to call it but assuming the woman you kissed at one point is your mother feels wrong in some sense.

_"Dr Frankenstein, I fear there's been some kind of misunderstanding! Nobody is trying to kill you! You are at the Society for Arcane Sciences, and I am-"_

_"Are you familiar with the idea of spiritual alchemy?"_

_"I_ **have** _, as a matter of fact"_

Red eyes, wide with surprise and alarm.

A blink and they were frustrated, angry.

Another blink and they were scared, horrified.

Then yet another blink and, in the dim light, eyes that seemed almost green, glowing with a strange, manic glee. Something crazed and dangerous. A voice of a higher pitch than his usual voice in a disconcertingly child-like way.

And, with a blink, the horror was back, tenfold in his gaze. He backed up, one step, another, hands shaky over his mouth.

He turned, took a shuddering breath, and left. His back was straight – an attempt at retaining composure. She watched him cross out the doorway, stepping into the darkness beyond and wading deeper and deeper into it until there was nothing left to be seen of the doctor.

The darkness seemed to swirl and whisper like something alive. Green eyes blinked and grinned in the gloom, sneering at her even as she reached out an arm, trying to grab at him, pull him back out. Her hands closed on the empty dark and she thought she heard faint childish laughter, mocking her. It rang from every side but no source could be seen.

She whirled around, trying to spot a trace of red, a trace of his departure. Darkness as far as the eye could see in every direction. Green and black and grey but no red to be seen.

Just as she was about to give up, something scarlet drifted from the dark, landing at her feet. She bent and picked it up, holding it up between her fingers.

It was a shred of his clothes, torn as though by some monster. It was difficult to tell against the crimson hue of the scrap, but there was something dried against it, a deep maroon that she knew all too well. She stared at it for several more seconds before staring into the dark one last time.

He never came back out.

She could do nothing but sit and wait.

  
  


Frankenstein woke up.

She groaned and rolled over, trying to forget the nonsensical fever dream.

She hated being cooped up like she was. It gave her nothing to do and, with nothing to do, her mind wandered time and time again back to Dr Jekyll. Even her fever dreams, which had been as bad enough as it was, had drifted onto the topic of the missing doctor.

Her mind flitted over every conversation they had ever had together, trying to pinpoint the reason for his disappearance. He hadn't mentioned anything about going anywhere and neither was there any ransom from an opportunist kidnapper.

There _was_ that ridiculous speech about splitting the human soul. She snorted at derision at it but, for all her trying, her mind kept drifting back to it.

It felt important but, for all her trying, she couldn't figure out what her memories were trying to tell her.

Perhaps he had tried to accomplish his delusional goals and somehow killed himself in the process?

She wanted to laugh, to say good riddance, but the concept just made her sick to her stomach.

What if he _had?_ What if he had done something terrible to himself trying to prove her wrong?

...It _was_ a very mad scientist thing to do, to try to accomplish something just because another called it impossible. The bad news was, it really was impossible. The soul didn't work that way and trying such a thing could only end in disaster or death.

Creature raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled at him, trying to get across an air of smugness. She could tell he wasn't fooled though.

"Do you want to keep antagonizing yourself over this or should I just tell you what's going on?" He asked bluntly.

Frankenstein frowned at him, trying to figure out what he was saying. "...What's going on..?" Her brain clicked and she hurriedly scrabbled into a sitting position, as much as it hurt her head to do so, "-Wait! You mean Jekyll?!"

"Yes. Doctor Jekyll. It was obvious from the bitter look on your face."

"How could _you_ know? Wait- Why haven't you told anyone?!"

"I prefer to stay out of the drama it will cause. As for _how_ I know, it's obvious. Maybe it's because I'm a creation of science myself."

"What on Earth are you going on about?"

"Jekyll _did_ split his soul."

Frankenstein made a derisive noise.

"Reason number two for not saying anything: I knew you wouldn't believe me."

"You can't split the soul. It doesn't work that way."

"He did _something_ to himself." Creature insisted, "I don't really care about the details so long as he treats you."

"This is stupid. I thought you were actually going to tell me something but I guess not. This doesn't even have anything to do with his disappearance." Frankenstein lay back down.

"He's probably fallen in the trap that most mad scientists fall into – Taken down by his own experiments in some way. One way or another, I don't think he's coming back." With that, Creature got back to... Well... Sitting there doing nothing. But now in silence.

Frankenstein didn't believe the soul nonsense but that last statement cut her as she stared long and hard at the ceiling. _Taken down by his own experiments in some way._

Even as she got back to her usual activity of recounting the cracks in the ceiling or weird stains, she revolved Creature's statement over and over again in her head.

_What way? Was he still alive?_

And then her weirdest thought yet.

_...Could he still be saved?_

  
  


A knocking at the door. Hyde pulled the covers further over his head and ignored it.

"Edward!"

More knocking.

"Lanyon told me what happened!"

No he didn't. He couldn't know the whole story. Even Hyde didn't know the whole story.

"Please let me come in, I just want to help."

Hyde bit his lip and remained silent for a while.

"Fine."

Rachel took the cue to open the door. She didn't say a word as she approached and sat on the bed next to him, perched on the edge.

They both stayed like that for a while.

"...Do you want to talk about it?"

Hyde sighed and shifted under the covers. When he spoke, his voice was muffled.

"I don't know what's wrong with me."

Rachel didn't reply. She just sat there, waiting patiently.

"I got along so well with the lodgers before. I used to love Frankenstein – she was my idol. Now, when I even think about them..." He threw off the sheets and leapt to his feet. He paced the room, agitated, "I can't be in a room with them for more than a few minutes without getting upset! Even the thought of Frankenstein makes me feel ill! I have all these gaps in my memory which is bad enough as it is but it's like my emotions from those memories are still there! I know all this has something to do with my missing memories but I don't know what I'm feeling! Nobody acts like they did something to me to cause these feelings! Is it just me?! What's wrong with me?!"

Rachel seemed unsure how to respond. "...Lanyon said you remember Jekyll. What are your feelings towards him?"

Hate. Hate. Hate.

Useless, worthless.

A burden on everyone around him.

"I hate him."

"Why?"

"He was a prude and he was clingy and-"

Constant working. No spare time to himself. Stressed.

No freedom. A bird in a cage. Hiding his true self from the world.

"He never let me do anything." Hyde sniffed.

Rachel seemed interested at that. She leaned forwards.

"Why would Jekyll have any control over what you did?"

"Well I-" Hyde's words died off.

Hey, why did Jekyll control what he did?

He wasn't the type of person to just listen when someone told him not to do something. Despite this, he felt like, when Jekyll said no, it had meant _no_.

"...Do you want me to tell you what I think?" Rachel spoke quickly before she could take it back.

"...What you think?" Hyde watched her closely from the corner of his eye.

"You still don't remember your parents, right? I think I might know who they are. I could be wrong though, take what I say with a pinch of salt."

Hyde was already on top of her, eyes wide and shining with hope, "What?! What do you know?! Who are they?!"

"I believe that Jekyll might be your dad." Rachel said quickly before she could take it back.

And just like that, everything fell into place. It fit so perfectly. Why couldn't he remember his parents? Because his dad was the person he had forgotten. Why did he hate Jekyll so much? Because he had never been a proper dad. Why was he the assistant of a man he disliked? A cover up.

Piece by piece, things fell into place.

"...Who..." Edward asked slowly, half hopeful and half afraid, "Who's my mother..?"

"A werewolf by the name of Morcant. Jekyll had an affair with her fifteen years ago and I think you were the result of that."

"I'm half werewolf?!" Hyde's eyes lit up with delight.

"I don't know!" Rachel cut in quickly, clearly regretting her decision to tell him already, "It's just a theory. I could be wrong."

Hyde just grinned, thinking of all the things he could have forgotten. Had he grown up in the wilds? What had Morcant taught him?

The name was familiar. It stirred memories in him and he knew she was special to him. He smiled, repeating the name in his mind.

Morcant. Morcant. Morcant.

His mother.

Then his smile dropped suddenly.

"I'M FIFTEEN?!"

Rachel simply shrugged.

"BUT- BUT-!"

...He didn't have an argument.

“...I feel older than fifteen,” He grumbled.

"Yeah, all teenagers feel older than they are." She patted him on the back, "You'll mature in time."

"But- But..."

He sat on the bed with a humph, crossing his arms and rethinking.

Morcant didn't really feel motherly to him. She felt special but not in a motherly way. He supposed he wouldn't really know what motherly felt like at that moment.

Jekyll being his dad made sense. Morcant being his mum didn't. Maybe Jekyll had more affairs.

On the other hand, how would he know Morcant otherwise? Had they met before?

"Are you sure Morcant's my mother?"

Rachel hesitated, "Well... No. Why? Doesn't sound right?"

"No. I know Morcant's name but she doesn't feel like a mother to me. I'm certain you're right about Jekyll though."

A grin spread across Rachel's face. "I knew it!"

"But who's the mother?" Hyde shoved his face into the pillow, "Why don't I remember her? If Jekyll wouldn't look after me because of his reputation or whatever, shouldn't she be the one I spent the most time with? Shouldn't I remember her?"

"...Maybe... Maybe it's not that simple."

"...You think my mum abandoned me?"

"...Uh..."

"Don't bother answering. It's not like I feel strongly about the issue so I guess I got over it at some point."

A moment of awkward silence. Since Rachel told him that, it felt right to tell her something in return.

"...I have a Scottish accent if that helps."

Rachel choked, "EXCUSE ME?!"

Hyde let his fake accent drop.

"I said I have a Scottish accent."

Rachel's mouth dropped open.

"...You're going to catch flies."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?!" Rachel leapt to her feet.

"I don't know!" Hyde's face pinched, "I don't remember why!"

A moment of pause. "...Jekyll has a Scottish accent."

"...So we're back to square one?"

"Not necessarily. You couldn't have around Jekyll long enough to pick up the accent from him... I, uh, don't know anyone else with a Scottish accent though..."

Rachel shrugged. Hyde planted his face in his hands with a groan.

"...Maybe I'm not fifteen?" He asked hopefully, "If Morcant's not my mother?"

"You could be younger. If Jekyll is your dad, you can't be _that_ old."

Hyde moaned louder into his hands.

There was a knock at the door. It was a quiet, unsure knock which left the pair unsure if they had really heard it. Then it came again.

Rachel frowned, "Come in?"

The door was opened quickly and Rachel and Hyde were faced with a group of the lodgers. She couldn't see how many from the doorway alone but it must have been quite a few.

She quickly looked at Hyde who, red in the face, was avoiding looking at them.

"What do you want?" She asked suspiciously. She blinked and cleared herself of her suspicions. If she kept viewing the lodgers in such a light, she might start falling into Lanyon's fears of human experimentation. She had known the lodgers for a while and she had to trust them. Besides, they seemed just as bewildered by Jekyll's loss as the rest of them.

"W-well-" Lavender spluttered, pushed to the front by the crowd, "Edward left in such a hurry earlier and we..."

"We wanted to see if he was ok." Bird finished from behind her.

There was a murmur of consensus from the crowd.

Rachel looked at Hyde and, gently, she asked, "Are you ok with having them here?"

Hyde hesitated. "...Yeah. I'm... Fine."

His Scottish accent was gone. That was a secret for him and Rachel alone.

"Is everything alright?" Bird asked, stepping into the room, "I know you and Jekyll were close..."

_Apparently he was my dad._

"...Just... Dealing." Hyde gave him a wavering smile.

Bird cautiously sat next to Hyde, keeping slow in case Hyde said no at any point. The shorter man, however, allowed him to sit there without a word.

"...Everyone's dealing in their own way." Bird said softly, "You're not alone and, if you want to talk about it..."

More agreement from the crowd.

Hyde looked up at them all. There were so many of them, all looking at him with sympathy and understanding. These were his friends. The ones who had been there for him to deal with his drama and petty annoyances. They were grieving themselves and, yet, here they were, dropping everything to make sure he was ok.

To his alarm, felt himself tearing up. He wiped away the tears but more came and, before he could understand what was happening, he was sobbing. He planted his face into Bird's shoulder, the scientist allowing him to do so, and wept.

"The society is the people, didn't you say?" Archer stepped forwards, grinning, "Well I suppose that makes us all a family and families look out for each other, don't they?"

Hyde sobbed louder. He didn't deserve it, not with the way he felt about them, not with his rotten personality. Not with the way he had burdened them.

"It's my fault." He whimpered with certainty, "It's my fault Jekyll's gone. I don't deserve it."

"...We all let Jekyll down." Jasper spoke up, "We all played a part in it."

"But there's one thing we can do!" Archer spoke with a gleam in his eye, "This society meant a lot to him, the least we can do as an apology is make sure it's still standing when he comes back!"

Normally Hyde would pessimistically say that Jekyll wasn't coming back but, staring out over that crowd at that moment, eyes full of hope and gleaming with energy, something stirred within him.

In that moment, for just a second, he was certain that Jekyll would be coming back.

Hyde smiled and then, with a choked sob and a sniffle, he started to howl. Tears and snot streamed down his face which would have ruined his reputation otherwise but, now, he allowed freely. He didn't care how they saw him.

As Hyde cried, the lodgers remained respectfully silent.

They were a family and they were going to get through this together.

  
  


Ito frowned through her microscope. She had such a small sample of the potion and she was strongly aware that the smallest slip up could ruin their only chance at solving the mystery of the potion.

She had to keep professional, she knew that, but the news of Hyde's amnesia shook her. A lot of things seemed to be going on lately and it felt like they should all be connected in some sense.

First Moreau, then Frankenstein, then Hyde's disappearance, then Hyde's reappearance hand in hand with Jekyll's disappearance and a strange bout of amnesia. It all felt like some kind of domino effect. Moreau had shown up in London because he was chasing Frankenstein. Hyde had disappeared because he had become a criminal due to the fight with Moreau.

The exhibition seemed to be the next linking factor. Jekyll disappeared after the exhibition had failed as a result of Frankenstein's reappearance.

That raised Hyde's reappearance and amnesia as the only things that didn't add up in the scheme. It seemed linked to Jekyll's disappearance in some way.

Maybe they were going about it all wrong. Maybe just one of these incidents wasn't linked and the trouble was getting caught up trying to figure out a link.

The potion was not being a help. Without using any of it up, she couldn't figure out any of the ingredients and, moreover, couldn't figure out what it did.

Rachel's next plan had been to take it to Blackfog but, the more Ito thought about the issue, the more she felt it wouldn't help.

What she needed was Jekyll's lab. What she needed was his notes.

She put the cork back in the precious bottle and slipped it into a pocket. With that, she headed for Jekyll's office.

The office had been cleaned up since the incident. She wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

Before there had been chemical spills on the floor, scattered furniture, the signs of something terrible. Now, however, it was silent and dark and lifeless.

It was more than that though. The office was cleaned up in such a way that it felt like he was never coming back to it.

It was wrong to see the papers and sheets stripped from the tables, to see the bottles and vials and tubes packed away neatly, the chemicals within removed. It suddenly lacked its character, merely an office.

It felt more like a shrine to someone dead.

She shuddered.

Books or pieces of paper – That's what she was looking for. She kept that thought fixed in her head as she opened and closed drawers, sifting through papers.

Overdue bills.

Finances.

Plans for the exhibition.

She swallowed, each paper that she looked through painting a terrible picture. It appeared that what Lanyon said was true – The exhibition had been more important than it seemed. The society had been financially suffering and Jekyll had been hiding it from everyone.

That exhibition had meant everything to the society and not a word had been breathed about the truth of it.

Jekyll really had been hiding all this, pretending that everything was ok. He must have known the entire time what would happen if nobody did the exhibition but, despite everything, he had kept quiet.

It also painted a strange picture of the man she had thought she had known. Was it pride, maybe, that had kept him quiet? Or worry about how the lodgers would react? Perhaps a mixture.

To her annoyance, his scientific notes were sparse and, where she found them, uninformative.

One piece of paper caught her attention. She hesitated, looking at the fancily inked writing poking out from the piles of paper. She caught the corner on a whim and pulled it out.

HJ7

Could it be?

There was a list of ingredients, most incredibly rare, and a set of instructions. It didn't sound like any potion she had encountered before and, from the instructions alone, she couldn't figure out its purpose.

Under it was a small brown book. She opened it. Research notes. Notes on this HJ7.

The notes in the book were equally uninformative.

 _15th Feb_ _–_ _Double dose._

 _17th Feb_ _–_ _Single dose._

 _20th Feb_ _–_ _Added 1g more_ _aqusediment hydroxide_ _–_ _Dose lasted 6 minutes longer than average._

 _25th Feb_ _–_ _Added 5g more aqusediment hydroxide_ _–_ _Dose lasted 24 minutes longer than average._

She frowned and flicked several pages.

 _10th April_ _–_ _Added 25g more aqusediment hydroxide_ _–_ _Effect_ _permanent_ _until antidote administered, mild memory loss, temporary confusion._

This particular note was written much more clumsily than the other entries, ink splattering the paper in several places. What really caught her attention though, was the next note.

 _18th April_ _–_ _Added 30g more aqusediment hydroxide_ _–_ _Strong confusion, moderate memory loss for around 15 to 20 minutes, increased paranoia_ _–_ _Experiment discontinued for safety purposes._

Memory loss. It went from mild to moderate. This sounded like the potion Hyde had used. He must have used more than 30g of salt then. By the sound of it, amnesia wasn't the intended effect.

If that was the case, what _was_ it supposed to do? What else had it done to Hyde?

Her finger drifted over the ink splotches on the paper. It seemed clear from the writing that Jekyll didn't want anyone finding out what HJ7 did. He was being deliberately vague in all of his notes. It made her job a lot harder but also raised some interesting questions.

Whatever Jekyll did, he didn't want it getting out. He was so worried about the news getting out that his own research notes were secretive. Why? What was the purpose?

What was Dr Jekyll hiding?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make Hyde believe that Morcant was his mother but the further I wrote, the more wrong it felt. Nope. Not touching that. I haven't read Bleeding Heart but I know Morcant and Jekyll kiss at one point so I assume it WAS a romantic thing.
> 
> Anyway, I couldn't think of some weird chemical name for the salt Jekyll used so now it's table salt. I think it's more the impurities in salt that make each salt type different anyway?  
> I just don't know how to make a fake scientific name for a salt. If anyone else has an idea, I would like to hear.
> 
> Edit: Got a suggestion for Aqusediment from a guest user using the name "Oh my god I love this fanfic". Kind of added a hydroxide at the end to sound more like a chemical compound, I hope that's ok and doesn't seem too awkward! Thanks for the suggestion!


	8. Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel, Lanyon and Ito create a working, if wrong, theory for Jekyll's disappearance. Frankenstein makes a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for non-explicit syringes/blood taking.

When Lavender came back to treat Frankenstein that evening, she was noticeably perkier. She had slightly more bounce to her step and, although there were still remaining cobwebs of concern in her eyes, overall she seemed hopeful.

Frankenstein smiled, glad to see her improve. The good mood was infectious after the doom and gloom of the recent few days.

"You seem to be in a good mood." Frankenstein propped herself against the bed rest, "What's the occasion?"

"Well, Jekyll's still missing but someone else just showed up." Lavender placed down her bottles of medicine cheerily, "Edward Hyde. He's Jekyll's assistant – been missing since setting fire to London a few weeks ago..."

Frankenstein choked on her own spit at that.

"But he's back and..." Lavender's eyes sparkled, "Well, it seems like he really was Dr Jekyll's assistant. He's got ideas for how to keep the society running in Jekyll's absence – which is a little more than I expected from him but – Never mind, the point is we have a plan of action now."

"So this Edward Hyde's assumed leadership?"

"Funny, huh? He's become more of a leader than our own co-leader. He's not even usually the type for good ideas. He's more of an act-reckless-now-deal-with-consequences-later kind of guy."

"He set fire to London?"

"Well I did say he was reckless..."

"Is this Edward a mad scientist?"

"Oh no, just an assistant."

"Shame. Setting fire to London... Now that's a mad scientist in the making right there if I ever heard of one." Frankenstein chuckled, "Will I ever meet this mystery leader?"

"I'm... I'm not sure." Lavender looked a bit puzzled, "He reacted weirdly when we mentioned you. For whatever reason, he doesn't want to meet with you."

Frankenstein blinked, surprised. So far she had been a famous figure - everyone wanted to meet and talk with her. Why wouldn't Edward?

...Oh...

Her stomach twisted as Lavender's words truly it hit her.

...Jekyll's assistant..?

But if he was Jekyll's assistant, then...

"...Was he close with Jekyll..?" She asked slowly, realization dawning.

The silence was all the answer she needed.

Lavender, not looking Frankenstein in the eye, simply nodded. When she spoke, she spoke slowly, sympathetically. "He's... Taking it hard."

So, chances were, Edward blamed her for Jekyll's disappearance or had heard bad things about her from Jekyll. Probably a combination of the two things. That was why he didn't want to see her.

Lavender quietly removed an empty syringe from her stacks of medicine. She seemed conflicted between wanting to remain silent out of respect to this Hyde figure and wanting to say more to her idol.

Finally, staring into the clear glass, she appeared to make a decision.

"Maybe it's just a rumour – roll up your sleeve please – but Hyde might have been in a relationship with Jekyll."

Frankenstein rolled up her sleeve and allowed Lavender to take a blood sample.

"...A relationship? With another man?"

The needle drew back out again with a new crimson cargo.

"Obviously, it would be a secret." Lavender peered at the blood taken. "...Maybe if Jekyll were around, he would be glad to have Edward back... Maybe... Maybe when he comes back..."

She trailed off, clearly not wanting to continue.

There were several moments of silence as Frankenstein thought and Lavender carefully extracted the contents of the syringe into a glass vial. The only noise was the tinny clink, clink of the needle knocking against the vial's glass lip.

"...I want to make amends with Edward." Frankenstein spoke up abruptly, startling Lavender who nearly dropped her syringe.

"What?"

"Clearly he doesn't like me because of what happened to Jekyll. I want to fix that. I-" Frankenstein hesitated, the next words already putting a bitter taste in her mouth, "I want... To apologize."

"...I'm not sure that's such a good idea. Hyde seems to be in quite the state recently. It would be better to wait for him to calm down first."

"Well what's the worst that could happen?" Frankenstein declared confidently.

Lavender's eyebrows drew together and her lips pursed, an obvious look of concern.

"...You know..." Lavender said hesitantly, "Whenever I hear someone say that, it's just before something terrible happens."

  
  


Hyde was sleeping.

He had worn himself out from crying and was curled up in a ball on the bed, eyes still red and puffy. His eyelids fluttered in his sleep with the occasional mumble and Lanyon knew he was dreaming about something. What it was, he didn't know.

He wondered if Hyde still remembered in his dreams. Whether it was possible that Hyde was reliving memories of Jekyll in his sleep, only to forget them when he awoke.

He wasn't an expert on amnesia. Anything was possible, he supposed.

Rachel had left because Ito had supposedly found something and had shooed out the lodgers in the process – They couldn't overcrowd him when he woke up.

Lanyon knew it was also because of Hyde's troubles with the lodgers but nobody said a word about that.

Alone with Hyde, Lanyon found himself looking for any resemblance between Hyde and Jekyll. Every time he found himself looking, he shook it off – He didn't believe that Hyde was Jekyll's son. Jekyll wasn't that sort of person.

Despite this, there were some similarities in appearance. They had the same beak-like nose, a similar face shape. Did they have similar shaped eyes?

He pursed his lips. That didn't prove anything – People could have one or two similarities. It wasn't enough.

Hyde didn't look enough like Jekyll and neither did he look anything like Morcant other than the slight wild air. No, even if Hyde was some illegitimate child – which he wasn't – he certainly wasn't Morcant's unless lycanthropy caused the children to look different to the parent.

No, Rachel was wrong.

The blackmail mystery had faded somewhat into the background with the disappearance of Jekyll but it was starting to come back to Lanyon, another mystery clamouring to be heard in his head. It felt like having a dozen loose strings tangled up together and he couldn't trace a single one to the source without encountering another knotted string and getting distracted.

He needed a proper conspiracy theorist, even if they came up with 'Lizard men' as the solution. They just needed someone who could connect the ridiculous amount of dots given.

...Well, he smiled mirthlessly, Frankenstein fit that box but he wasn't letting her within 50 feet of Hyde if he could.

Without thinking about it, Lanyon brushed a strand of hair out of Hyde's face, revealing the young, child-like features of the boy.

He took a moment to look at the golden strands, running through his fingers like a river. Light, fluffy and soft, curling in rings around Hyde's peaceful face like a picture frame. Not a single grey strand marred the sunlight colouration.

No, that wasn't Morcant's or Jekyll's hair colour but it did remind Lanyon of something.

It took him several moments of thinking for the answer to hit him like a ball of cold slush – Jekyll's mother had the same kind of hair, from the curls down to the shade of blonde.

He shoved the thought away violently, crossed his legs and quickly sat back, keeping his hands away from Hyde.

The door opened and Rachel slipped in. She glanced at the bed and Hyde's sleeping figure before creeping over to Lanyon, careful not to make a sound.

"Ito wants to talk to us both about something, can you come with?"

Lanyon glanced back at Hyde. He seemed fine enough in his sleep, not even the slightest sign of a nightmare. Robert nodded and allowed himself to be lead out by Rachel.

They met with Ito in Jekyll's office. Ito was standing, carrying a pile of papers in one hand.

"So?" Lanyon loitered by the door, taking in, with distaste, the way the room had been cleaned up since Jekyll's departure, "What have you found out?"

"The potion Hyde used is, as suspected, a home-made concoction of Jekyll's-" Ito placed a sheet down on the desk, making sure the pair of them could read it, "It's called HJ7"

To read the paper, Lanyon had to, reluctantly, move from his position in the doorway, going further into the room. The whole air of the room was wrong without Jekyll's presence and every second in the room gave him unpleasant feelings.

Together, the duo read the paper.

"Jekyll's notes on the potion are limited. As of yet, I can't figure out what it does. I've taken it to Blackfog and nobody there can pinpoint what it does either."

Lanyon's eyes widened as he read the paper. He snatched it up, holding the paper to his face and reading it over to make sure he wasn't misreading.

"...Do you recognize it?" Rachel asked, startled by Lanyon's change in demeanour.

"I... I recognize the ingredients." He put the paper back down slowly, "Remember how I said Jekyll took an expedition two years ago and returned with herbs and minerals?"

Rachel's eyes lit up with realization, "Those are the herbs?"

"His research notes go back two years so it's very likely that's when he first made it." Ito agreed, "The ingredients are incredibly rare so it'll be difficult to recreate. On the bright side, he probably has the ingredients stashed away somewhere if we can just find and identify them."

"From there we can find out what it does." Rachel finished.

"Do the notes not say anything about what it does?" Lanyon frowned.

"...No." Ito flicked through the papers, "He's very... Secretive about it, even in his own notes. Whatever this potion did, he didn't want anyone finding out about it no matter what."

"Doesn't it erase memories?" Rachel asked.

"No. From what I've read, memory loss is a side effect of messing up the potion."

A moment of silence as everyone took in what that meant.

"...So Hyde didn't erase his memories deliberately." Lanyon concluded, "But if that's the case, then why would he use it on himself?"

"That's the question." Ito ran a finger along the ink blotches on the paper, "I plan to find the ingredients and recreate the potion. From there, we can test it on something – One of the non-invisible rats for instance – and figure out what it does."

"And if the effects only work in humans?"

"...We'll cross that bridge when we get there. What troubles me most is that Dr Jekyll appears to have been using his potion on a human. He doesn't say who in his notes."

A sharp intake of breath. Everyone turned to look at Rachel, the source of the noise. She looked horrified, her hands over her mouth. It took several seconds for her to swallow her nerves and speak.

When she spoke, her voice was deathly still.

"...He was using Hyde as a test subject."

"Woah, woah!" Lanyon quickly rounded on her, "We don't know that for certain. He could have been..." Robert swallowed, aware of what he was about to say, "...Using himself..." Knowing Jekyll, that was the most likely test subject, as much as it pained him to admit it.

"But then why would Hyde know about it?" Rachel countered.

"If he was using Hyde, Hyde would know how to not mess it up!"

"Not necessarily! The test subject doesn't need to know how the potion is made to use it!"

"Are you really accusing Jekyll of being the type of person to experiment on another human being?! Rachel, you know Jekyll, you can't really believe he was that kind of person?!"

"...He wasn't the sort of person to hit you either..."

Lanyon felt the heat rise to his face. "He... He was in a bad place!"

"...And maybe he was in a bad place when he used Hyde as a test subject..." Rachel replied, dangerously quietly, "Jekyll wasn't in the best place two years ago."

Robert's hands trembled, angry at the accusation and angry at himself for the vague belief in Rachel's theory. Rachel didn't stop there, though, she continued, voice still quiet.

"Hyde might have been used as a test subject for a prototype potion called Dragon's Breath."

Lanyon sucked in a sharp intake of breath, "...How do you..?"

"It was one of Hyde's memories that he managed to get back – he helped Jekyll make a Dragon's Breath potion and tested it on himself."

"Jekyll wouldn't- He- He's not-" Robert didn't like the thought. Jekyll had always been somewhat quirky, it was part of his charm, but he wasn't some mad scientist. He wasn't some dangerous maniac who would use another human being like a guinea pig – put their lives at risk.

Hyde was the one in the wrong, not Jekyll. Hyde was the dangerous criminal and arsonist, Hyde was the one blackmailing Jekyll.

Hyde couldn't be in the right. Ever.

"That's enough from the both of you." Ito cut in, "I believe Lanyon is right – Jekyll was the test subject."

"How so?" Rachel looked half hopeful, half fearful.

"Whenever the potion had effects such as confusion or loss of coordination, Jekyll's notes were messier. Unless Hyde wrote the notes as well, it seems unlikely that he was the one used."

A sigh of relief from both of them.

"...But still..." Rachel said slowly, miserably, "Using himself as the test subject... He could have gotten badly hurt from that..."

"Maybe that's what Hyde was there for." Ito tapped her foot, thoughtful, "To keep an eye on Jekyll as he did these experiments, make sure nothing went wrong."

"...And on the night of Jekyll's disappearance, maybe something _did_ go wrong." Lanyon's eyes widened, the cogs in his brain starting to turn, "Maybe that potion caused Jekyll's disappearance."

"It's a theory." Ito admitted, "A shaky one but a theory nevertheless."

"I heard Jekyll scream just before I found Hyde." Lanyon began to pace, mind working rapidly, "So something happens to Jekyll like some sort of teleportation or dimension hopping or whatever. Jekyll screams and Hyde, waiting by the side, takes the potion to try to follow. I came in and made him choke it up so whatever it did to Jekyll didn't happen to Hyde because it was out of his system before the effects could properly set in."

"Teleportation or dimension hopping, huh?" Ito mused, "Unlikely but I suppose we don't have any better theories."

Lanyon froze in his pacing. "Oh God. If it caused Hyde to lose some of his memories and the process didn't even complete on him, what on Earth would it do to Jekyll's memories?"

A cold silence.

"...Jekyll might not remember who he is?" Rachel swallowed nervously.

"Then we should hope it was teleportation and not dimension hopping then." Ito finished, "Otherwise we won't be able to find him and remind him how to get back home."

Rachel grabbed up the papers and read through them. It felt like they were making progress at last but whether that could make a difference or not was unclear as of yet. She really hoped they could do something to help him.

As long as they were making progress, she reminded herself.

One step at a time.

  
  


Lanyon felt sick to his stomach at the end of the conversation for numerous reasons.

First, the idea of Jekyll, without his memories, just wandering somewhere. Possibly in danger, possibly already dead. Possibly never to have his memories return whether they found him or not.

Second, the idea that he could have landed in some other dimension, universe or plane of existence. He could be beyond reach. They might never even find his body.

And third, the one that tugged at the edge of these other concerns, not as pressing as the others but one that clouded his mind with a different kind of fear.

Jekyll had used Hyde as a human guinea pig for a Dragon's Breath potion.

He had been trying for a while to connect the dots between Jekyll and Hyde and he finally seemed to have the connection: Jekyll had been using Hyde as a human test subject.

That's why he put Hyde in his will, that's why he was afraid to blame Hyde for the fire. Hyde had the power to tell everyone about his research, to ruin his perfect reputation with just a few words.

Maybe that's why he had started using himself instead, for fear of lasting effects on Hyde that his assistant could use to prove Jekyll's misdeeds.

No wonder Jekyll didn't want to tell him the truth. No wonder he had kept so quiet.

Who would want to confess to something so heinous?

 _Rotten._ That's what Jekyll had said. _Rotten._

What could be more rotten than that?

He must have been in such a terrible state emotionally to do such a thing. Lanyon was torn between a horrified fear _of_ his friend and a fear _for_ his friend. How bad? How bad must Jekyll have been? Had Lanyon not been there for him enough?

Had Robert failed his friend so spectacularly?

It was in the middle of this quickly growing guilt and fear that he heard a scream distantly. His head shot up as he recognized the scream instantly.

That was Jekyll.

  
  


When Edward awoke, he was alone.

He blinked, rubbing his eyes of the sticky remnants of his tears. His crying had hardened on his face in a humiliating, disgusting mess. He rolled his eyes and made his way to the nearest bathroom. He ran the tap, splashing the cold water against his face until he was awake and his face felt less gross.

He wiped the remaining water from his face and stared in the mirror for a few seconds.

His eyes, green, stared back.

He looked a little less like a mess after the water but there were still bags under his eyes and his face, although slightly flushed from the cold water, was still deathly pale.

He tried to smile in a charming way. For some reason, it felt like a habit of his to do so.

His smile was slightly strained but, bit by bit, he little adjusted it in the mirror until his face gleamed with faked hospitality. Soon, he had pinched and squished a cherry glow into his cheeks and a twinkle of friendliness to his eyes. Even the corner of his mouth was adjusted until there was a slight dimple – not too deep, not too shallow – that gave him a quite innocent look.

He nodded at his reflection, satisfied, before turning to leave.

To his surprise, however, he was met in the doorway by someone else. He caught a glimpse of their shoes first: fur lined boots attached to rather muscular, bulky legs – those of a person who walked a lot. What he could see of their legs were pale in a sickly way.

He blinked, frowned, and looked up into their eyes, curious to identify this newcomer. His blood ran cold.

"Are you Edward Hyde?"

He recognized the woman instantly – of course he would, that wasn't a memory he had lost. He had last saw her cradled in the arms of Creature, on the verge of death.

He remembered the excitement he had felt back then at finally meeting the great Frankenstein, now usurped by a complete and utter frigid terror.

_Not her, anyone but her._

His words caught in his throat, leaving a mere squeak of fear.

"I wanted to talk to you."

Pain. A bruised cheek.

_Not a real scientist._

_Rotten on the inside._

Insults and hurt and pain and hate and-

_Please, God, I'm sorry_ _–_ _Not her, please not her._

_She'll know. She'll know._

Hyde couldn't speak.

"...You are Edward Hyde, correct?"

He stepped back, trying to breathe. Was something lodged in his throat? It seemed so much smaller now, he couldn't get enough breath in his lungs. He breathed in and out, trying to get enough oxygen but it was never enough.

_I'm never enough._

The noise that came from him was choked and wheezing.

"Edward?" She stepped forward – _NO, GET AWAY, GET AWAY, LEAVE ME ALONE!_ _–_ raising a comforting hand towards him. Edward flinched away, raising his arms to protect his face.

"-No." He forced the word out, barely a word, more of a wheeze. "I'm sorry- I- I-"

His memories writhed under the surface, unseen but still grotesque, still fear inducing.

"...Edward?!" She stepped forward quickly, reaching out for him. Luckily, Creature, who was stood behind her, caught her arm.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

The tears were beginning to pour down his freshly cleaned face. He hiccuped, squeezing his eyes shut.

"What's wrong?!"

_She'll know. She'll know. She'll tell everyone and they'll hate me again and it'll start again. The insults, the mockery, the pain. I finally got away from it, I finally got away from it and now she'll drag me back to that life_ _–_ _That pain._

"Edward!"

A hand brushed against him and, he threw himself back with a wail of absolute terror.

When would it be enough?! When would she decide she had taken enough from him?! When he was fully dead? When there wasn't even a scrap left of him?!

"I'm not- I'm not going to hurt you! Please calm down!"

The words were white noise in his ears, taking second place to a new, louder voice in his ears that was screeching like an animal. It was incoherent babbling but the meaning rang in his head like a thousand bells.

_Get out of there, get out of there, getoUTOFTHERE! NOW NOW NOW!_

That voice, loud and clear even as it was impossible to hear or understand. It was familiar even as it remained a complete stranger, friendly even as it was hateful. Cold even as it burned him alive.

He knew that voice so well and, yet, somehow he didn't. Distorted and ruined and feral and hateful, hateful, HATEFUL!

"What did you do?!"

Another voice. Male.

"I don't know! I just got here and he started-"

"Get out!"

"But-"

"Get the Hell out!"

"What's wrong with him?"

"Frankenstein." A calmer, deeper voice, "Just leave it alone."

"But what's wrong with him? Is he ok?!"

Poisonous words, leaking from bloodied lips. Even as she choked on her own internal bleeding, finding a way to ruin his life. She wasn't concerned, not really, she didn't really care about him just the blackmail material. Just a new card to lord over him, to drag the lodgers back to her, away from him, to steal his life all over again. He curled up in a ball on the floor.

Hyde's fingers gripped his hair and tears spilled from his wide eyes, flooding down his face, a torrent of blood, hot and sticky.

His head screamed with pain like it was splitting in two. Like he was being split all over again.

Hyde screamed with it.

He screamed and screamed and screamed, memories gushing through his eyes and nose and mouth, burning like acid where it touched. Claws against his legs and arms, pulling him in every direction.

Darkness.

Darkness and red and crimson and scarlet, swirled together. Fingers, nails, claws and teeth tearing at his skull, scrabbling for purchase, begging to be let in.

"Edward!"

A name. His? No, not his.

"Edward, calm down."

Soothing. Familiar.

He knew that voice.

_"Teaching you. This, my dear Henry, is a waltz."_

Laughter, not mocking but carefree and charming.

That voice cut through all the pain, the hurt.

"That's right, breathe, Edward, breathe. In, out. In, out."

The man who had never abandoned him no matter what, no matter how crazy his ideas were.

"You're doing great, just keep it up."

The man who, even after everything, had stuck by him. Even when he didn't deserve it, even when it hurt him to do so.

A thought whispered in Hyde's head in a voice that wasn't his own, unbidden by him.

_What was his name..?_

A faint smile flitted across Hyde's lips in almost a daze. His heart beat strangely against his chest as he gazed into those eyes.

The presence left him and, like a puppet with cut strings, Hyde fell unconscious in the man's arms.

As he fell into sleep, his heart continued to flutter.

Almost like a bird in a cage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hyde: I lost my alter ego a long time ago...  
> Jekyll, yelling in Hyde's mind: Hey! Do you remember what Lanyon's name was again?!  
> Hyde, crying: Sometimes I still hear his _idiotic_ voice.
> 
> I wasn't so sure about this chapter. On the one hand, the meeting between Hyde and Frankenstein felt like it should be a big moment with all of Hyde's emotions relating to Frankenstein but, on the other hand, it doesn't really feel like much compared to any of the other moments in this fic. It's kind of just another freak out by Hyde.
> 
> Anyway, next chapter will give a bit of insight as to what actually happened with Frankenstein and Hyde this chapter. It'll be kind of an information dump in the notes but, hopefully, puts a lot more of Hyde's memory situation into context.


	9. Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into Jekyll's situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative chapter names: I use a ridiculous number of metaphors trying to get a point across.  
> Warning for hallucinations and mentions of blood.

Darkness.

Navy blue darkness.

He drifted in it.

Body weightless.

Thoughts absent.

He didn't know how long he had been there for.

Where he was.

If he was ever going to leave.

Numb.

Just numb.

Emotionally and physically.

He didn't really care.

To care would be to think.

To have any awareness of the situation.

So he just didn't.

He just waited.

  
  


Time wasn't really a thing in that darkness.

No clocks. No sun. No moon.

No awareness of the passage of time.

It couldn't be said when the panic began again. It happened on occasion. Something red would begin to drip and there was a vague flicker, a feeling of tensing for the onslaught.

Then, it began.

Eyes. Grinning mouths. Teeth, claws, blood dripping, pouring in his skull, out his eyes, down his face, wet and spiteful and hateful.

The navy darkness swirled with crimson bloodshed.

Fear. Fear without thought, fear without understanding, fear for the sake of fear.

He lashed out with limbs that didn't exist, for a threat that didn't exist.

Scared, fearful, hurt, hurt, HURT.

Nails scratched into him, scrabbling for purchase, clawing to pull him limb from limb and it took all his strength to hold himself together, in this faint consciousness, even if he didn't know why, even if he couldn't understand why not.

Pain, splitting in two, Clutching to stay together, tethered together at two ends and being pulled.

And, in that moment of fear and pain, a thought.

_...Where..?_

It was leaking like blood from his head but, somehow, he managed to grab a hold of it, to pull himself higher towards wakefulness. It was an instinctive action, not a planned out action, but some part of him knew it was important that he held on no matter what.

_...Where... Am I..?_

Gripping tightly, knuckles white from the effort. Pull harder. Fight against the pain. Climbing higher even if he didn't know why.

_...Who... Who am... I..?_

More thinking, more stirring, more awareness. Fighting the darkness that pulled him down, tugging at his legs, inviting him back.

_...I am..._

He gritted his teeth, kicked out against a twisted hand that had wrapped around his ankle. Climbing higher.

_My name is..._

Shaking from the effort of merely waking up, he grasped at his thoughts again. One was tugged loose and shot through him like a bucket of freezing water during a heatwave - simultaneously painful even as it was welcome.

_...Henry... I'm... I'm Henry..! Doctor Henry Jekyll!_

He could weep from joy at hearing his own name, something that should have always been there, something that should never have been so easily lost. Something that he had taken for granted before that he now clung to like a lifeline, desperate never to lose it again.

His name, his name, his _name_ as clear as day and just as bright and warm and inviting.

How could he have lost it? How could he ever let himself forget?

He sobbed, arms tight around it, almost refusing to climb higher in case it should slip from his grasp again.

But he had to.

Something in his heart told him he had to climb and climb he did.

He steeled himself and pulled himself up another rung of the ladder.

_I went to college with... Lanyon. Robert Lanyon._

A series of images in his mind. Robert's smile. His hand in Jekyll's own as he lead him in a waltz. His confident air, his jokes, his oak hued eyes.

_God... Lanyon... How did I ever forget you..?_

His friend who had been there for him every step of the way, no matter how crazy or stupid. His friend who had taught him, shown him, a life he could only have dreamt of before.

_How could I have done that to you?_

Lanyon's fearful face.

_Please, don't be scared. I'll be back soon, I promise. I'm coming back, you hear me?_

Then the image of a maid in a frilly white apron, smile broad and beaming. A laugh like a bell.

_...And Rachel. My other dearest friend. I'm sorry to you too. I'll never be so selfish again. I'll never ditch the pair of you again._

He reached out to grab another rung. He was getting faster now, desperate to get back as quickly as possible.

_How could I ever leave you both? When you were always there for me?_

Step by step, awareness sweeping in. He smiled, he laughed. The permanent fear that encroached his sleeping mind melting away.

_And the lodgers!_

Numerous faces this time, obscured and blurred by his fractured memories but there. Laughing, joking. Days spent helping them, chatting with them. Wonder at their amazing inventions and discoveries. Discoveries that Jekyll could never believe were so hated by the public if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

_The lodgers!_

Their names were smeared like wet ink that had been brushed by a stray hand. For some of them, their names were more impressions than actual names.

Did _his_ name start with a G or a J?

 _Her_ name definitely had an I in there. Three letters for her last name.

And another. Small with ill fitting clothes.

_...J... Jas..._

It was a struggle but he was getting somewhere. Glimpses of fur and eyes round with wonder.

_Jasper! That was his name! Jasper!_

A dozen creatures of fur and feathers of a thousand colours. Scales and scorpian tails, beaks and wings and shells and crests that glowed in rainbow hues.

_He was such a quiet kid, I hope he's not taking this too hard._

Light above. Getting brighter. He scrambled to get to it, as soon as he could. He wouldn't – couldn't – leave them another moment. He would fix it. He would fix what he did and in time he would be forgiven for ever trying to leave.

_I'll be there soon. Just you wait!_

_Just wait a little longer, I'll be there._

_I'll never leave any of you again. I'll never be such an idiot again._

_Please..._

Hands outstretched.

_Just wait for me._

He reached again, no regard to how quickly he was going, no regard to caution.

That was his mistake.

His hand wrapped around the next thought, fingers curling.

Then something grabbed his foot.

His hand slipped.

With a cry of utter terror, he fell down. He could have screamed if he had a voice to do so, his arms flailing as he tried to reachieve a purchase.

His hands caught his thoughts as they slipped through his fingers, grating against his being like friction, burning his hands. A muffled cry through gritted teeth, tears in the corners of his eyes. No, no, he couldn't fall, not now, he had gotten so far.

His hands hurt, hurt, _hurt_. He had to climb. Had to.

A shaky hand reached out, blood spilling from the burns.

His hands were slippery from blood against his thoughts, unable to gain a solid grip. The tears were beginning to trickle down his face now and he was whimpering at the back of his throat.

He couldn't lose it. Not again. Not now – PLEASE!

His hands slid, frictionless against his thoughts, unable to gain a proper grip. He was helplessly sliding down, his hands screaming from pain.

 _My name is Henry Jekyll. My best friends are Lanyon and Rachel. My name is Henry Jekyll. My best friends are Lanyon and Rachel_ _–_ _NO, NO, NO, PLEASE GOD NO, I'LL DO ANYTHING, PLEASE!_

 _CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?! I'M DOCTOR HENRY JEKYLL! I'M FRIENDS WITH- I'M FRIENDS WITH LANYON- I'M FRIENDS WITH- I_ _–_ _I-_

_I'M HENRY JEKYLL, UNDERSTAND?! HENRY JEKYLL!_

Further down, further down, less and less thought, less and less consciousness. He clutched to his name, his lifeline.

_Dr Henry Jekyll! Dr Henry Jekyll!_

Again and again he repeated it in his head, focusing on nothing else other than his name, his precious name. He repeated it until he didn't know what it was he was repeating only that it had to be remembered. He didn't care about the other memories – he could rebuild if he just kept that one memory.

_Henry Jekyll! Henry Jekyll!_

It became just a word, repeating in circles in his head.

He couldn't even remember that it was his name anymore.

Merely, a word.

Then, at last, he stuttered.

_Henr- Henry-!_

And...

_Hen-_

Bit by bit...

_He-_

He fell silent.

_H-_

_..._

And like that, Jekyll was gone, back in nothing but darkness and fear while the rest of the world lived on, unknowing.

Never even regaining enough of his memories to know that it wasn't the first time he had tried.

Never knowing of the cycle he was caught in.

  
  


Another moment, another day in the darkness, not that he would know that.

It was more peaceful in that moment than it had been for a while - No fear, just nothingness.

Nothing reached for him in the dark and neither did he reach out for the light.

You could almost say that he was content.

He was vaguely aware of images. White walls, a mirror, a face sticky with snot and dried tears. He lacked the thought process to put the images together in any reasonable form, they were just kind of there.

They were there sometimes, impressions of something outside his nothing. Images and, sometimes, feelings.

It should have been a moment like the hundreds of others. Nothing special, nothing of note.

Then a certain image. A flicker of blonde. A voice, female, that he knew all too well.

It took a second for his sluggish mind to register the image but, when he did, the result was instantaneous.

Fear and clarity, viscous and violent, tearing his skull apart like a dagger plunged through his brain. Cold and hot and scared and hateful.

It was her. It was HER.

_Not her, anyone but her._

He remembered. He remembered pain and insults and mockery.

_Pain. A bruised cheek._

_Not a real scientist._

_Rotten on the inside._

_Insults and hurt and pain and hate and-_

No, he wasn't going back, he wasn't going back, he wouldn't let her drag him back.

Not her, not her, not her.

_Please, God, I'm sorry - Not her, please not her._

_She'll know. She'll know._

_I'm never enough._

He didn't even know what he was doing, didn't know how he was doing it, but, in that moment, he reached out in instinct, grabbing at another consciousness.

It was warm and familiar to the touch, mostly happy, a little sad. He didn't think though, didn't care, he screamed and clawed at it with the ferocity of a wild beast, shrieking at it to get them out of there. NOW.

Where he touched, the nightmares he was tormented with leaked between them like a disease. Every moment that he held on drove fear and agony into the other, purely instinctive. Claws and fangs and bleeding tongues, dripping crimson and lurid green, rotting where it touched, erroding thought into terror.

_NO, GET AWAY, GET AWAY, LEAVE ME ALONE!_

The other was trying to pull away but he sunk his nails into them, unwilling to release, desperate to be heard. He couldn't tell his own pain from that of the other. It melted together, crackling through him like a conduit. He was little more than an empty vessel and it was so easy for that other to flow into him just as it was easy for his panic to flow into the other.

He saw he leave, saw her pulled away and still he screamed and hammered at the walls of his confines. His voice would be hoarse if it could make a sound. Raw from howling and yelling.

 _She'll know. She'll know. She'll tell everyone and they'll hate me again and it'll start again. The insults, the mockery, the pain. I finally got away from it, I finally got away from it and now she'll drag me back to that life_ _–_ _That pain._

Then, a soothing voice. One he also knew once. Comforting. Friendly.

A flicker of memory. Wings beating against the cage.

A familiar hand which had, once, lead him in a dance, faces so close he could feel the breath on his face. He could feel that breath again now, living, worried but just as calming as it had been then. A soft voice. A known voice. A voice who hadn't abandoned him for anything no matter what stood in their way.

His screams died in his non-existent throat.

The voice continued, the meaning of the words running over him like water, a meaningless babble that was, somehow, comforting to hear. The words were spoken in such a soft way, such a familiar way, that he couldn't help but let it wash the wild rage and terror from his mind.

_What was his name..?_

He smiled, faintly, a coil of nostalgia beating in his chest for a time lost. Feathered wings fluttered in his chest.

With that, he sank back into his waking sleep.

He felt no more.

  
  


Lanyon's shoes clicked on the floor with preciseness and certainty as he strode through the halls of the society.

This was the last straw.

Hyde couldn't stay at the society, not in the state he was in.

He had been somewhat bad around the lodgers but he had managed to get over it with just a bit of time. What had happened with Frankenstein, however, was a different matter.

Hyde was next to hysterical when he found him. Frankenstein, uncomprehending of the situation, had to be lead out.

Worse, there was no way the news wouldn't get out. The lodgers would know that there was something off with Hyde and he wasn't sure how Edward would react to the new attention.

He found Rachel quickly. Rumours spread quickly in the society, particularly those from Frankenstein's mouth, and she had been looking for him too.

"Edward-" She started.

"Is going to be staying at my place again." Lanyon finished neatly, "He can't stay here."

"But- But he was doing better with the lodgers around! And the lodgers need him here!"

Lanyon scoffed, turning and heading to fetch Edward now that he had Rachel in tow. She scrambled to keep up behind him, panicked.

"Doing better? We still don't know what the lodgers did to him to make him worse to begin with!"

"Maybe it was nothing! You don't understand, with Jekyll gone, everyone's upset! Everyone's just started getting better with Edward here, Edward included!"

"Nothing?! Rachel, you weren't there! You weren't there when he broke down in my house! You weren't there when he broke down in front of Frankenstein! It comes back to the lodgers. Every. Time."

"And you weren't there to see the way they comforted him!" Rachel snapped back, "The way they looked up to him and he looked up to them! He cares about them!"

"So did Jekyll and see where that got him!" Lanyon clenched his fists, "Those stupid ideas of 'mad science' must have been what caused him to do- To do whatever it was he did to himself! Henry broke down too, you think it was a coincidence that they both seemed to break down over something the lodgers did?! No! I'm not letting him stay here and worsen! He's my only key to getting my friend back and I refuse to lose him!"

"You really don't care further than that, do you?! It's all just about Jekyll in the end! Edward is his own person, you should at least give him the choice!"

"I did." Lanyon caught her gaze and held it, eyes hard, "He agreed."

Rachel's mouth opened and closed, trying to get a response, an argument, anything to cause Lanyon to change his mind.

"This is a mistake." She said at last, "Hyde's not going to get better isolated in your house. Robert. He needs company." She cut him off before he could retort, "Not just you. People he knows. You're still a stranger to him, you know."

Lanyon bit his lip. It was strange but he had kind of forgotten that. The more he got to know Hyde, the more it felt like he had known the little brat his whole life. He could see it in the familiarity in Edward's eyes too, Hyde felt like he knew him for God knows what reason.

Maybe it was because he reminded him so much of Jekyll.

He ignored her, striding into the room with Hyde. The shorter man was silent as he entered. He wouldn't even look up.

"Edward," Rachel pleaded, clearly jumping to her last chance, "You can't really be considering this. The society needs you here."

Edward curled up into a ball, hugging his knees. There was no response.

Whatever had happened with Frankenstein had clearly really shaken him. Even after he had panicked over the lodgers, he had bounced back with ease. Now there was merely a far away look in his eyes.

Her heart sank. It was clear from that look that he wasn't listening. Anything she said to try to convince him would just slide off like water on a duck's back.

Lanyon knelt beside Hyde with uncharacteristic gentleness.

"Edward." He asked softly, "Are you ready to go?"

Maybe that was the most surprising part of the situation. Rachel looked at Lanyon and Hyde right then and there and she felt like there was something there. It was then that she felt that Lanyon truly cared for Hyde, no matter how much he denied it.

She could understand in a way. He was using Hyde as a surrogate for Jekyll.

She only hoped that his fondness for Hyde would last even after Jekyll came back.

If he came back.

Edward nodded silently and shifted, steadily getting to his feet. Lanyon kept a hand close, keeping Hyde from falling over. He herded the barely responsive Hyde out the door.

Rachel could do nothing but watch helplessly.

  
  


Lanyon was thankful once Hyde was back at his house, curled up again on the sofa and fast asleep. Hyde had distracted him for a while but now his mind drifted back to what he had heard.

He had heard Jekyll. That had been Jekyll's scream.

His mind drifted back to their theories of dimension hopping. Was that truly Jekyll? Did that mean Jekyll was still alive? Had he come back for a second or had he just heard Jekyll through whatever veil or wall that was keeping them apart?

Why was Jekyll screaming? Was Jekyll in danger or... Or was Jekyll trying to protect Hyde from wherever he was..? Had... Had Jekyll screamed because Hyde was in trouble..?

God, he was almost glad for Hyde's panic just because of the distraction it had served – he was going to lose his mind trying to piece this together.

It was a horrible thought to have and something twisted in his gut. He frowned, bewildered at the feeling. It had felt like guilt.

Guilt? For Hyde? It couldn't be.

He hated Hyde. Despised him, obviously. He was clearly the reason why Jekyll was gone.

So he couldn't feel bad for Hyde. He couldn't.

Lanyon's eyes lingered on Hyde's unconscious shape for a couple of seconds longer before he sighed.

He needed a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Walks in and slams a box of papers down on the desk so heavy that it cracks the desk*  
> Alright f***ers, time for a history lesson.
> 
> Surprise, Jekyll's not dead.
> 
> Well, he’s dead in a weird sense of he’s been erased from his own mind but it’s like data on a hard drive, you can’t delete it, you just get the computer to forget where it put the data so it can’t find it anymore.  
> His memories and self-awareness are completely gone so he’s just drifting along, only vaguely aware of things. This messes up his personality big time so it’s easier to see Jekyll as dead in these scenes – this is just a bundle of loose emotions and thoughts that can occasionally act like a person.  
> It’s sort of like one of those ghost stories where the ghost in question just relives memories from life in some endless loop. On occasion, something stirs the ghost enough for them to remember that they’re dead or feel bad about all the things they’ve been doing but most of the time, they just act on instinct. Jekyll will sometimes relive the moment of his “death”, that being the fear and loss of memories, and, when threatened, will lash out like a cornered animal.  
> Unfortunately for Hyde, he’s the only thing Jekyll has contact with so he’s the thing that Jekyll lashes out against.  
> It’s moments of slightly more clarity that Hyde experiences things like memories or hallucinations. I actually always meant that hallucination sequence in Lanyon's bathroom to be Hyde speaking directly to Jekyll in a weird way.  
> Because he’s just a bunch of disjointed emotions, he acts erratically a lot. It’s kind of difficult to properly write Jekyll here because I can’t get across vague emotions and feelings through writing, it has to be an actual thought process to be understood. Even then, I felt like I needed this big long explanation to get things across and I still don’t think I’ve explained myself properly.
> 
> The short of it is, this isn't Jekyll at the moment just the vague remnants of what's left of him.  
> Essentially...  
> Jekyll: Look at me. Look. At. Me.  
> Hyde:  
> Jekyll: I'm the voice of anxiety now.
> 
> Anyway, a little bit more light hearted stuff next chapter. I've just always meant for Jekyll's situation to be this way and I felt like I needed to explain it more directly. It may be a disappointment to those of you who thought that one line from the last chapter was Hyde losing more memories. Nope. It was just Jekyll. Hyde still knows who Lanyon is.


	10. Hobbies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyde is bored and decides to take out that boredom on Lanyon.  
> Frankenstein comes to a conclusion.

Hyde was bored again. Lanyon's house was nowhere near as fun as the society even if it was less traumatic.

So, yet again came the annoyances.

He made a game out of trying to get Lanyon to snap.

He hid behind furniture and jumped out to scare him. He hid the cutlery, he hid the dishes. He tracked mud on the carpets, knocked over the plants, stole the alcohol and left his clothing all across the house.

If Hyde was going to suffer, he was going to make Lanyon suffer as well, like it or not.

It had only been one or two days but, to Hyde's mind, it felt like years of watching out the window, tracking the sun's path across the sky.

It was about day two that, while sneaking about, Hyde found a bunch of boxes in Lanyon's office. It had taken a lot of sneaking about, learning Lanyon's patterns and habits, to slip into the room unseen. There were a lot of books in there and, if Hyde cared about books, his boredom would probably disappear for the next week. Sadly, Hyde wasn't interested in that. Instead, his eyes caught on several boxes at the back that looked like they should have been opened ages ago but Lanyon simply hadn't gotten around to it.

Hyde picked open the nearest one with his long nails. The lid flipped open and he looked inside eagerly. Something gold glinted in the light and he gently removed it.

It was a gramophone. It had a golden horn and several records had been placed in the box besides it in a neat row. Hyde whistled, impressed. He wondered what kind of music Robert listened to.

Checking over his shoulder constantly for Lanyon, he placed a record in the gramophone, adjusted the stylus and wound it up.

A slow piece began to play from the speakers – the sort one could hear at any ballroom. It certainly wasn't what Hyde had been hoping for.

His face pinched in distaste and he began to sort through records, searching for something more interesting. In between the clink of records knocking together between his fingers, there was the sound of some very firm and annoyed footsteps entering the room.

Robert had found him and he was _not_ happy.

"Morning, sweetheart." Hyde taunted, not looking back, "Any actually interesting music or are your tastes in music just as trashy as your sense of style?"

"What's wrong with my style?!"

"Too posh."

Hyde tried to continue looking through the records but his arm was grabbed by Lanyon and he was dragged to his feet, the music still playing. He was spun to face the furious doctor.

Hyde glanced down at the hand that held him and then at the pose the pair had ended up in. They were awfully close together and with his arm pulled out straight like that...

A devilish grin spread across his face.

"What's that look supposed to- AH!"

Hyde, within the blink of an eye, had placed his hand against Lanyon's back and wrapped the other around his hand, locking their hands palm against palm. With that, he bent his arm, pulling Lanyon so close that he could feel Lanyon's panicked breath against his face.

"Edward, what are you-?!"

Edward laughed childishly and, in time with the music, swept Lanyon along.

"Is this a waltz?!" Lanyon's eyes flicked rapidly between his feet and Hyde's uncomfortably close face.

Dragged along by Hyde, Lanyon stepped on Edward's toes. The shorter man tutted, undeterred.

"Aren't you a gentleman? Shouldn't you know how to dance?" Hyde jeered, moving with cat-like grace.

"You just sort of dragged me, I didn't agree to- How do _you_ know how to dance?!"

"Who cares?" Hyde purred into his ear, giggling at the way Lanyon cringed away from him, "Can't you dance?"

"I- I can... But-" Lanyon glanced back down at his feet, uncertainly.

Then, a resolute look flickered across his face. Hyde raised an eyebrow, but his inquiry was cut off with a yell as Lanyon sharply spun Hyde, dipping him, almost taking the shorter man right off his feet. Hyde's eyes darted rapidly between the floor and Lanyon, his breathing quickening.

"This isn't part of a waltz!"

"No, it's not." Lanyon pulled Hyde up to his feet. Something mischievous crossed Lanyon's face and Hyde began to suspect that he may have made a terrible mistake.

Before he knew what was happening, Lanyon was dragging him along in a new dance, the balance of power between the pair shifting rapidly. Hyde stepped on Lanyon's feet several times and stumbled several more, playing puppet to the music and Lanyon’s firm grip.

He didn't like how quickly things had fallen out of his control. This was supposed to drive _Lanyon_ nuts, not him. He stepped on Lanyon’s toes again and the doctor didn’t flinch.

Hyde steeled his nerves. He wasn’t about to be outmanoeuvred by a prissy doctor. Step by step, Edward began to try to keep up with this impromptu dance.

It was a flurry of dips, spins, pulls and pushes that made it difficult to tell where Lanyon would go next. As he listened to the music however, he began to feel out the pattern to Lanyon’s movements. Bit by bit, he began to step on Lanyon’s feet less and stumble less.

Hyde started to gain confidence, even adding a few of his own steps to the dance. Determined not to be outdone, he dipped Lanyon. It was difficult considering his short stature – the pose was awkward and he strained under the effort of holding Lanyon up. It was a struggle to pull the doctor back to his feet, not helped by Lanyon in the slightest.

Two steps back. Spin. Two steps forward. Dip.

The music was picking up, the slow start clearly just the warm up. The new pace was quick and speeding up steadily.

Two steps back, spin, dip, back up. Two steps back, two steps forward.

Lanyon clearly knew the song better and was able to keep pace with ease to the bouncing tune. As Hyde caught a glimpse of his face between spins and steps, he could see unrestrained glee shining in that face.

His heart inexplicable fluttered and something stirred in his memories.

Before he could even think about it though, he was being swept into an unpredicted spin, almost tripping over himself to keep up. The wind whistled past his ears, almost drowning out the music and the world around him became a blur of motion.

He was sweaty and his breathing was picking up with the music. The pair both had flushed faces and a sparkle in their eyes. Hyde's longer hair was a frizzy mess – whatever wasn't stuck up in every angle conceivable was plastered to his face by sweat. Lanyon's shorter hair had fared better but not by much.

Then Lanyon dipped Hyde so low that his hair brushed the floor and, finally, the music ceased.

Silence fell.

The pair breathed heavily, still locked in that final dip, eyes equally locked together. Their huffing breaths of laughter were the only sounds in that space. Lanyon pulled Hyde gracefully back to his feet and the pair found themselves incredibly close together. If they had been the same height, they would have been nose-to-nose.

Lanyon's eyes darted across Hyde's face for several seconds, clearly thinking about something. Hyde, taken aback by Lanyon's display of complete and utter confidence was equally examining the doctor's face, seeing the man in a new light.

Then, abruptly, Robert's face went red and he shoved Hyde backwards, sending the smaller man sprawling.

"Hey! What gives?!"

Lanyon wouldn't look at Edward. There was something strange in his expression that Hyde couldn't quite read. Lanyon collected up his records in his arms.

"Keep out of my stuff." He simply said, primly, and turned and left.

Hyde stared on, bewildered.

  
  


Lanyon refused to talk about the dance. Any attempts by Hyde to ask about it were cut off abruptly with a sharp glare.

Hyde felt like he had done something wrong. Well, he _had_ , obviously – He had broken into Lanyon's office – but something he didn't know about.

It wasn't any sort of guilt that caused the memory to stick in his head, merely a puzzled curiosity. Lanyon had been doing fine until that last point and he had been examining Hyde's face with...

...Was it... Recognition..?

There had been a strange familiarity in that dance and it felt to Hyde like it was something he had done before. He didn't know where he had learnt to dance but he could recall every step of the waltz with ease. The whole situation had felt like deja-vu, from the way he was the one being dragged along down to his dance partner’s ease of manner.

He was surprised to see Lanyon stroll into the room halfway through this train of thought. He was dressed up and a stack of papers was clutched in one hand.

"Going somewhere?" Hyde asked.

Lanyon barely gave him a glance, "I'm going to the society – They need help with that new exhibition."

"You? Helping?" Edward leaned towards Lanyon, rocking on his chair, "What's the occasion?"

"I can't stand another second in this house with you." Robert finally looked at him with a cutting gaze, "You're infuriating! You track mud on the carpets, you bug me all hours of the day, you break into my personal rooms, you-!"

"So leaving me alone here is going to be any better?"

"I can deal with damages later, as long as I don't lose all my hair dealing with them every second of the day."

"I can't come with?"

A sharp look cut off that argument. Lanyon slotted the papers into a bag.

"Don't burn the house down while I'm out."

"Not even a little?" Hyde asked sweetly.

The door slammed. Edward was alone.

Unsupervised, his eyes lingered on the oven for an uncomfortably long time.

  
  


Lanyon was thankful to be alone as he made his way down the streets.

Those who had heard of Jekyll's disappearance stopped him to say they were sorry for his loss and Lanyon just smiled and said he would show up eventually.

They were empty words, none of them had been that close to Jekyll and Lanyon had said enough similar things to people in the past to know how hollow they were.

What really caused him to grind his teeth however was the way they spoke as though he was already dead. It was never, "He'll show up eventually," or, "I'm sure he's just taking a break," it was "I'm sorry for your loss," or, "He was a good man."

Hopes in the general public weren't high and he felt they might have come to the same conclusion he had come to ages ago: that one of Jekyll's mad scientist charity cases had done something terrible to Jekyll in the name of science.

If only they knew that Jekyll had done it to himself.

That wasn't what was on Lanyon's mind at that time, however. He had all the proof he needed that Jekyll was still alive - he had heard him only recently, after all.

No, that wasn't the issue that bugged him.

The issue in question was about five foot tall, blonde and had a voice like sandpaper being played against an out-of-tune violin.

His issue was Edward Hyde.

Lanyon groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair. What had he been thinking, messing around with Edward like that?

In that moment, he had been caught in memories of teaching Jekyll to dance and had forgotten completely who he was really dancing with. He had been playing with Edward like he was Henry and it almost felt like a kind of betrayal.

Jekyll was possibly in horrible pain or suffering at that moment and there Lanyon was replacing him with the man who was blackmailing him. What kind of friend was he?

He sighed and took a deep breath, cooling himself off. It was fine, he just had to remember who he was dealing with. Edward Hyde was not Henry Jekyll and he had to keep that in mind in the future.

Jekyll wouldn't be upset at him for forgetting for a second so long as he kept his true goal in mind - Using Edward to find Henry.

On the bright side, he wouldn't have to deal with Edward for a while. He could finally distract himself.

Lanyon continued on with renewed vigour.

  
  


Frankenstein had a lot on her mind. Amusingly, for once, she was glad at how much free time she had to think about things.

She had finally met the infamous Edward Hyde. The mysterious vigilante who had burned down most of London, who, as she had found out from continued questioning, was practically chaos incarnate.

Stories got wilder and wilder with each person she asked. Hyde was the one who had tried to supposedly stab Moreau with an umbrella of all things if the stories were to be believed. The one who had once stolen every knife in the entire building and strapped them together in “The ultimate weapon” as he called it. Somebody who had, on multiple occasions, smeared glue on the outside of the test tubes so that they stuck to a victim’s hand. Edward Hyde was the overall reason why every door in the building was lockable and the reason why nobody would leave their stuff alone without getting someone else to keep an eye on it.

He was a lot shorter than she had expected.

That wasn't the trouble though, not anywhere close.

The problem was Hyde's voice.

She hadn't understood what was going on when she had entered that room. Hyde had taken one look at her and gone pale.

He had spoken and she had heard his voice and it was high pitched and childish and familiar in a way she couldn't quite put her finger on. Frankenstein, not yet realizing that she was the source of his distress, had tried to comfort him.

Then he had screamed and, when he did so, a chill had shot down her spine.

It wasn't that same high pitched voice that came from his mouth when he screamed. It wasn't Hyde's voice at all. The voice was older sounding and, worse, nightmarishly familiar. It was a voice she knew but pained and frightened in an unfamiliar way.

It had taken a while of thinking alone in her room and racking her brains for where she had heard this voice before. When it hit her, it was like a kick straight to the stomach.

That was Jekyll. That had been Jekyll's voice.

And that voice she had heard once before... That voice when he had started insulting her, mocking her for Elizabeth. It had been of a higher pitch than Jekyll's usual voice and she had assumed at the time that he merely put on a deeper voice to sound more welcoming to other people but now she could put a chilling name to that voice.

That had been Edward Hyde's voice, coming from Jekyll's mouth.

Anyone else probably would have been creeped out by this realization but, to Frankenstein, it provided an unusual puzzle.

Had she imagined it? Maybe she was connecting dots where they didn't exist.

"Creature..?" She asked tentatively, "You said before that Jekyll's experiments were a success..."

Creature didn't respond, just watching her.

"...I would like you to explain what Jekyll did." She took a deep breath, "And this time, I'll pay attention to all of it."

  
  


Edward scowled and lay on the table. His back against the wood and his head positioned off the edge of the table so he could see the rest of the house upside-down.

He placed his hands over his stomach and sighed as loudly as he could.

Then he sighed louder for good measure.

No, he was going to go crazy like this.

Hyde, with a groan, hopped off the table and made several rounds of the house. Unsurprisingly, it was the same house as before no matter how many times he went up and down the stairs.

Chair. Stairs. Drawer. Kitchen tiles (Exactly 50 black tiles and 49 white). Back door. Front door. Chair. Stairs. Blue carpet. Red carpet. Black and white tiles.

There were five cracks in the stairway and about three doors that creaked when he pulled on them. There were two bathrooms and six chairs at the dining room table and one sofa in the living room and one fireplace and two armchairs, one with a pillow with the stuffing coming out of one split corner. There were about a hundred and twenty seven books in the office and nineteen of them were history books. Thirty eight of them had pictures. Twenty two had battered covers and two of them had once had ink spilled on them.

It was his 4th repeat of the trip around the house that his eye caught on the edge of a paper that had fallen down the back of a drawer, only just visible and easily missed. Hyde grinned and fished it out. He held it in his hands and examined it.

It was a photo, glossy finished, black and white.

There were two people in the photo. They were positioned neatly, hands in laps and heads slightly raised to create an air of confidence. On the left, unsmiling, was Lanyon. He was younger in the photo and he looked uncomfortable at having his photo taken. He had clearly shuffled closer to the other person in the picture, perched almost on the edge of the chair to get closer to them. Given the stern air of the photo, he probably wasn't supposed to.

The one on the right...

The one on the right was smiling although it was a rather awkward smile. He was clearly trying to fit the neat air of the photo but was failing, instead coming across as a kid trying too hard. His head was tilted just a tad too much and he was clearly struggling not to look at the camera.

Hyde recognized it as someone might recognize a well known celebrity that they themselves weren’t fond of. A man who he could picture but didn't know anything about.

It was Henry Jekyll. Younger, obviously, and clearly still growing into his youthful features. His younger self had less of his usual charm and prudish look and, instead looked an awful lot more like a puppy miserably trapped in the body of a human. A puppy who was was trying to fit in but still desperately wanted to chase his tail in circles and jump on people. Possibly lick a person's face too.

Hyde didn't know a lot about Jekyll, it _could_ have been possible.

Somehow, Hyde was captivated by the picture. It was difficult to tear his eyes away from Jekyll for reasons he couldn't quite explain. He lifted his hand, letting his fingers drift across the picture, softly brushing the doctor's face. To his surprise, his fingers were trembling as he did so. He blinked, confused, and a clear droplet fell, splattering onto the paper.

Edward frowned and raised a shaky hand to his eyes. He was... Crying..? He didn't feel sad, though. Was something in his eye?

He didn't feel anything staring at the photo other than odd curiosity.

He wiped his hand against his offending eyes, drying off the tears. With the tears gone, he gently placed the photo down on the drawer. His eyes lingered for a few more seconds on the image and it took all his effort to tear his gaze away.

He strode from the room and decided he wasn't going back there. He took in the kitchen, boredom returning and photo quickly forgotten.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully and then, with a wicked grin, he recalled the mask he had bought from Blackfog. Did he have to stay in Lanyon's house? Sure, he was a wanted criminal but so long as he remained low...

So long as nobody saw his face...

And he knew the perfect place to head to.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing waaay too much depressing stuff lately. I wanted a chapter of Hyde doing something light-hearted just before I started hitting the characters with sticks again.  
> Also a bit of Frankenstein because she has all the pieces of the puzzle and I can't just shove her to the side because she knows too much. I'm starting to feel out the sort of role I want her to play in this story but it's a little shaky and, for the hundreth time, I'm cursing myself for not planning anything beforehand.
> 
> Anyway, I brought up a gramophone and I think that's what they used for music in the Victorian era - If I'm wrong, I'm sorry. Technically Jekyll is a better dancer than Lanyon but I imagine it's more difficult to dance when you're shorter than you're used to.  
> I don't know dances at all.


	11. Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyde continues to be a living disaster, torments the society and overhears something he shouldn't.

Hyde wasn't quite sure why he didn't take his usual route over the rooftops. He supposed some part of him was scared of being spotted given that he was wanted by the police. It was weird how cautious he had started being since his loss of memories. At times, he felt like someone else entirely.

He copied the techniques he had learnt from Rachel when they had gone to Blackfog, ducking behind bins and shrubs all the way. He stayed patient, as much as it pained him, to wait for people to pass by. When he had to or completely lost patience, he would show himself, trying to keep the careless air of someone who certainly wasn't a wanted arsonist. The mask hid his face, the silvery metal cold against his skin. It probably looked suspicious but he could easily play it off as some disfiguring injury that he didn’t want anyone to see.

The night vision lenses on the mask were useful for the darker alleyways and streets, he found. With ease, he made his way through the dark unseen.

Finally, he found the place he had been looking for.

The building loomed, blotting out the sun like some massive monster of stone and metal. It cast Hyde in shadow as he stared up into the glass eyes of the beast, dimly glowing flames like pupils from candles watching him back with threatening intensity. Occasionally, he would see movement behind the glass, shadows and shapes that couldn’t be identified from where he was stood.

It was certainly a thrilling kind of danger going for the society considering Lanyon was there. Worse, Frankenstein was there. Either one, if they caught him, would cause a commotion.

He was so bored that the danger no longer put him on edge – It drove him onwards.

He slipped through a back entrance rather than through the front. He knew the society's every entrance, exit and hidey hole like the back of his own hand. The back entrance he chose was a window in Sinnett's lab that was always kept open to let out the constant smoke. It was small but, for a smaller man, it was a perfect fit. Hyde slipped through and onto the tiled floors with a soft thud. He scrambled, dusting off his trousers, to his feet.

The lab was empty. A flamethrower was sat on a table along with way too many Bunsen burners for one table and a couple of fireworks.

Hyde, for as long as he could remember, was _not_ under **any** circumstances, allowed in Sinnett's lab. Not like that had stopped him, though. Sinnett hadn't caught him yet though and, as far as Hyde was aware, that meant it was ok.

He vaguely remembered Jekyll getting angry at him for it on multiple occasions but he didn't remember how Jekyll had known and why he hadn't outed Edward for it.

This time, however, he wasn't going for the fire-making equipment. He was wanted for arson already, once was enough. He slipped out the door and, keeping behind furniture, made his way through the society.

It wasn't long before he came across his first victim.

Maijabi was making his way down the corridor, hobbling after a floating candlestick that was quickly getting away from him. As someone who dealt with ghosts on a daily basis, Hyde wasn't sure he could scare the man in any way but it was worth a try.

He pressed himself into the nearest room and waited for the candlestick to approach before using the handle of his umbrella to fish it from the air, yanking it into the room with him.

Maijabi blinked in surprise (Or maybe he winked, it was hard to tell with that eyepatch). He approached the room slowly, clearly being cautious.

"Who's in there?"

Hyde stifled a snigger as he ducked under a desk with the moving candlestick. It was trying to pull away from him but whatever force made it move was clearly weak.

Maijabi stepped into the room and peered around, fuzzy eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

"Whatever manner of spirit you are, please cease this at once. I need to get back to work on the new exhibition."

Could Hyde say anything or would that get him caught? Well, he had to try – Staying under the table the whole time was just boring.

"WhyYyYy..?" Hyde asked childishly, wavering his voice in a goofy spirit impression.

To his delight and surprise, Maijabi took the bait: hook, line and sinker.

"The exhibition is very important for funding so I can continue to study your kind now will you kindly give me back my candle?"

"NoOoOoOo..." Hyde pondered. What would a ghost say?

While he was thinking, Maijabi groaned and came further into the room, closer to Hyde's hiding spot.

"You're behaving very childishly. Are you, perhaps, young?"

Hyde sniffed indignantly, "I'm OoOolder thaAaAan YoOoOou..."

Maijabi hesitated before suddenly reaching under the table. Hyde yelped as the candlestick was snatched from his hands.

"Thank you for getting this for me." Maijabi said bluntly, giving Hyde a stern look.

"How did you know?"

"I may be old but I'm not an idiot. I've been studying spirits for years, you think I can't recognize one?" Maijabi tucked the struggling candle under one arm. "I see you're bored again."

"Yeah. Anyone nearby I can torment?"

Maijabi mused for a second.

"Griffin is chasing down his invisible mice again. I believe he's close by and probably sleep deprived enough to fall for your shenanigans."

Hyde's eyes lit up with mischievous fire.

"Oh, is he now..?" Hyde grinned and ran out the door, yelling over his shoulder, "Thanks for the help!"

  
  


Instead of finding and playing with a tired Griffin, Hyde ran directly into Ito. He was running so fast that the pair fell down in a tangle of limbs and dress folds. Ito gave him a look before promptly kicking the shorter man off like a football causing him to slide across the clean floor on his butt.

Ito stood up, straightening her dress before folding her arms and looking down at Hyde.

"What have I said about running in the hallways?"

"Luckett is usually carrying explosives and I could blow up half the building?"

"Exactly. What are you doing here anyway? I thought Lanyon took you away?"

"Got bored. Why do you know about that?"

Ito blinked, "Didn't they tell you? I'm a part of the investigation into that potion that erased your memories?"

"Well..." Hyde pushed himself to his feet. "That's news to me."

"...Has anyone told you _anything_?"

Hyde opened his mouth to respond but Ito cut him off.

"Never mind. I can see by that blank look on your face that they haven't. Let's go to my lab, I'll explain to you."

Ito trotted away and Hyde, after hesitating for a moment, trailed along behind.

  
  


"So. The basics." Ito dropped a horrifically large pile of papers on the desk before Hyde, the stack making a thump as it hit the wood. Hyde stared at it in disgusted awe. "We've identified the potion that erased your memories as a home-brew of Jekyll's called HJ7. It's a mix of rare herbs and minerals with a particular emphasis on salt."

"Table salt?"

Ito looked at him dryly. Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she spoke. "Yes. Table salt.” She sighed and tapped the desk with a single nail, “Jekyll's scientific notes on the subject are quite secretive so, whatever the potion was meant to do, he didn't want anyone knowing about it."

Hyde snapped his fingers, "So he erased my memories to prevent me talking!"

Ito put her face in her hands. "...I think I understand why nobody told you anything."

Hyde was silent to that.

"The potion, if made incorrectly, causes memory loss. Moreover, we've found that Jekyll was testing it on himself. We believe that you were his assistant while working on this potion – to keep an eye on things and make sure that nothing went wrong. This is what lead up to the incident."

Edward sat down at the desk and stared up at her curiously.

"On the day of Jekyll's disappearance, he messed up the potion in some way. Exactly what it did to him is unknown but we do believe that it sent him somewhere else – another plane of existence. From there, you realized what was happening and tried to take the faulty potion to follow after Jekyll and save him as, presumably, you were there for."

...That sounded way too self-sacrificing for Edward but he stayed silent. The entire thing sounded like somewhat of a tall tale.

"You would have ended up with the same fate as Jekyll but, after hearing Jekyll's scream after drinking the faulty potion, Lanyon burst in and made you throw up the potion, preventing its true effects from kicking in but leaving you with the memory loss."

Hyde thought about it. He didn't take himself as the sort to chase another man into possible death but Jekyll had been his dad so maybe the relationship was different there.

"And these papers?" Hyde took one from the pile and read it. The scientific language on the page made his head hurt but, surprisingly, he understood all of it.

"Jekyll's documentation on HJ7"

Hyde tilted his head to one side, reading it over again. Ito was right, the ingredients were... Interesting to say the least.

"...Salt, huh?" Hyde murmured without thinking, "People believed salt could cleanse the human soul."

"It's also used for numerous other things as well. Why? Remembering something?"

"...I'm... Not sure. I just vividly remember that salt was used for cleansing negative energy which was good because... Because…” He struggled to think for a second before swearing loudly. “I don't remember! I feel like I was almost there and it just slipped out! Like a damned bar of soap!"

"Well it's good if you're starting to remember things. It means your amnesia isn't permanent and, if they come back, we can figure out where Jekyll went."

"If."

"If." Ito agreed, "Don't push yourself. We've already lost Jekyll and we wouldn't want to lose you too."

Hyde looked at her long and hard. Her face betrayed nothing.

"But you would prefer Jekyll?"

A hesitation.

"...I don't know." She admitted at last, "I would like both of you here if possible."

"You hesitated. You _do_ have an opinion, you just don't want to say!" Hyde accused, "Me or him?"

Ito put her hands on her hips, "Why is this important?"

"Me or him?" Hyde insisted.

"If it comes down to it, don't sacrifice yourself for Jekyll." Ito glared at him hard, "If that's what you're thinking."

"So me?"

A long, exasperated sigh. "There's no preference Hyde, drop it. I'm saying we've adjusted to losing Jekyll, it would be awful to then have to adjust to your loss as well."

Hyde mused over this. He wasn't sure why this was important to him but it was. Some part of his heart was tugging at him, screaming that it was important.

Jekyll or Hyde?

Well, Edward knew which one he would rather have.

  
  


Hyde looked over the room he had found himself in. Jekyll's office room was... Nothing special really.

After talking to Ito, he had been seized by a desire to see the mystery man’s office in the hope that it would jog his memory. He had been somewhat surprised to find himself in the real life version of his hallucinations in Lanyon’s bathroom only... A few days ago? He wasn't sure. He hadn't kept track.

It had changed. Edward wasn't sure whether it was his hallucinations that had added the smoking potions and glowing vials or whether the chemical mixtures had been removed. He liked it better cleaner – reminded him less of his fit in the bathroom. There was also a weird satisfaction at seeing it neat.

He wandered further in, running a finger along a desk and glancing at it. He had expected to see dust but he supposed, with everyone treating Jekyll like he was dead, the room had been well used.

Well that was a morbid thought. Back into the box with that.

He wondered if Jekyll had alcohol.

Just as he was looking for any wines in the many cabinets and drawers of the office, he heard footsteps approaching. Edward's head perked up and he listened intently. To his alarm, the footsteps were very familiar.

It was Lanyon.

Not bothering to wonder how he knew Lanyon well enough to recognize his footsteps, Hyde dove under a desk and held his breath. He wasn't a moment too soon either, just as the last strand of his hair vanished under the wood, the door creaked open.

There wasn't anyone else with Lanyon – the taller man was alone as he walked down the stairs. Hyde could see his feet coming into view from the gap beneath the desk. His steps were slow, almost fearful and Hyde came to see a glimpse of his hands clasped before him, rubbing against each other nervously.

Edward couldn't fathom why on Earth Lanyon would have come to Jekyll's lab alone. Was he looking for clues again or did he think he would find Jekyll lying on the floor like he just hadn’t looked hard enough every time before?

Lanyon ended up in the front of the desk Hyde was hidden under. Edward curled up into a smaller ball.

There were several long minutes of silence. Hyde wasn't sure that Robert was going to leave. He peeped out from under the desk to see what was happening to see Robert just... Standing. He wasn't doing anything, just staring at the room, hands rested atop the desk.

_Well that's not weird and creepy at all._

Edward, examining Lanyon's expressionless face, was certain that he could run out the door right then and there and Lanyon wouldn't even look up. It was making Hyde uneasy.

Then there was a small, quiet breath. Lanyon's chest moved in and out deeply as he breathed. Slow, deep breaths.

Hyde cocked his head to one side.

Robert looked up, as if looking for some kind of God and, in a barely perceivable voice that forced Hyde to strain forward to hear, began to speak.

"...Henry..? I... I don't know if you're there. I don't know if you can hear me but..."

Several drops of something landed beside Hyde. To his alarm, Robert was crying. It was the silent sort of crying, no shaking, no sobbing hiccups. Even his voice remained as steady as ever.

"...We think... We think you might be..." Lanyon gave a small, weak laugh, "Well it sounds ridiculous saying it out loud but Ito, Rachel and I think that you might be in some other dimension? Or another plane of existence? I mean, it sounds crazy but..." More laughter, shaking free more tears, "You were never exactly the most normal guy, huh?"

Lanyon snorted with laughter into his hand, taking the opportunity to wipe away some tears with his other hand.

"I don't quite know how these things work. I don't know if, in some way, you're still in this room, listening to me ramble on. If you are, then..." A breath again, "Then we're going to save you, understand? We're going to find you and bring you back, one way or another."

Hyde, embarrassed to be listening in to such an emotional moment, shuffled further under the desk.

"Everybody misses you. Crazy, right? I thought they all hated you but the lodgers all miss you too. Even Edward nearly sacrificed himself trying to bring you back and..." Now Lanyon made a small noise, a small sob. His body hiccuped for a second and he paused, recomposing himself. Despite this, when he spoke, his voice was shaking. "And _I_ miss you. You were a great guy, Henry. You were funny and kind and gentle and you always found me fascinating even when I was being boring. Even when I was sort of a jerk, you were there for me."

Lanyon laughed again. His laughter choked suddenly and he bent over the desk, hand over his mouth, trembling there for a few seconds.

"...I was an awful friend, wasn't I? I mean, I didn't know you were experimenting on yourself. I wasn't there for you, to fix you. You never even trusted me enough to tell me what you were up to. If I had been better..."

Edward was horrified to find his own eyes tearing up. He gritted his teeth and furiously wiped them away.

"I'll be better. When you come back. I'll be there. I won't let this happen again. I'll never let you down like that again, Henry, if you just _please_... Come back."

Hyde found his own hand reaching out for Lanyon. Sharply, he pulled it back and held it close to him as though it could betray him again.

"...I'm not even sure if you remember me. You... You probably don't." Lanyon smiled, a trembling smile, up to the heavens, speaking to the ceiling, "So, if you can hear me... Your name is Doctor Henry Jekyll. You're a famed philanthropist and you took in so many people and helped so many people. Even when they didn't appreciate you, you stuck to them. You helped them find homes, gave them jobs, stuck with them no matter how crazy or stupid they were. I... I never really understood it myself but you always seemed to really care about them. You... You were a great guy."

Hyde pressed his hands against his mouth to muffle the whimper building in his throat.

"I'm Robert? Remember me? Robert Lanyon? We met in college. I taught you how to fit in better with the upper classes but... Nowadays you're better at it than I am. Isn't that funny?"

A sobbing laugh. A sniffle as Robert wiped his nose.

"Listen to me ramble on, huh? Don't even know if you can hear me and I've somehow landed here talking to you like... Like I'm talking to your grave… Like I’m talking to a ghost..."

Edward was pushing himself backward now. The underneath of the desk was quickly feeling way too small and he was sure there wasn't enough air under there.

"...Henry, please forgive me."

Hyde couldn't take anymore of this. He threw himself out from under the desk to a surprised yell from Lanyon and ran to the door, tears flooding down his face. He tore open the door and sprinted out, the sound of his own footsteps sounding to his ears as though they came from a million miles away.

Hyde didn't stop running or look back the whole way.

  
  


Hyde slipped into the house quietly. He knew Lanyon wouldn't have beat him back home but he was still seized by the irrational fear that Lanyon would be there, waiting for him and wanting to know where he had been.

The house was silent as usual. The photo was still on the drawer where he left it. His eyes caught on it again and, for several minutes, he examined Jekyll's face.

A wave of nausea overtook him for a second, something unpleasant lodging itself in his throat even though he hadn't eaten for a while.

Finally, with a shudder, he turned the photo over so he didn't have to look at it anymore.

He had had enough, he was going to sleep.

Curling up into a ball on the sofa he called a bed, he tried to rest, shaking violently despite the warmth of the house.

It took a lot of tossing and turning but, eventually, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the last chapter were originally one chapter but I decided to cut it up so that the last chapter wouldn't have any drama in it. It's supposed to be a breather chapter, after all.


	12. Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frankenstein makes a move. Jekyll makes a move. Lanyon doesn't like the new things he's learnt about Hyde's condition but he chooses to make a move too.  
> Potentially, unknowingly, the best move anyone's made about the situation yet.

Lanyon, after being left by Hyde, stared, agape at where the smaller man had vanished. His face flushed as he realized that _Edward Hyde_ of all people had heard him in his moment of weakness.

There was no way he wasn't going to use this to make fun of Robert.

Lanyon groaned loudly and smacked his face into the desk, groaning louder.

This was a disaster. Worse, Jekyll probably hadn't even heard him. He had just made himself look like a complete and utter idiot for nothing.

Lately, he had been throwing himself with much more enthusiasm than usual into helping the lodgers.

Usually it was Jekyll's job and Lanyon hadn't really understood before why he would put so much effort into it.

He knew now.

Every second of helping the lodgers, talking to them, resolving arguments, was another second that he didn't think about his steadily stacking problems. Every second he worked was a second he didn't think about Jekyll or Hyde.

Did Jekyll feel the same way? Was he throwing himself into work to avoid thinking about the things he was doing to Hyde?

Unfortunately, for all his uncharacteristic effort, he didn't know how to help at all. This wasn't the same as the first exhibition – it was for criminals which meant that things had to be changed up. It was a fine balance between appeasing the public while appealing to the criminal underworld.

First of all, it was pay to enter. Criminals weren't going to be charitable by a long shot so that aspect had to be dropped.

Secondly, every exhibit had to be carefully worded so that any normal visitors wouldn't be put off but those who knew what they were talking about, other mad scientists, would understand and appreciate.

Thirdly, it was soon. Most of the lodgers already had some sort of project and the financial situation was too precarious to wait for too long. They were working on an alarmingly limited amount of time.

It was a delicate act of balance and Lanyon didn't believe for one second that it would work but, at the very least, he felt like he was doing something to keep Jekyll's dream alive.

In his more quiet moments, he wished Henry was there to help.

It was one of those quieter moments that he had found his feet carrying him to Jekyll's office.

Some desperate part of his mind told him that, if he opened that door, Henry would be sat there, asleep in a pile of papers like usual. He would greet Lanyon like usual and, somehow, the entire missing fiasco would have been some bad dream and nothing would have changed. Jekyll wouldn't be the man who would experiment on others and himself. The exhibition would have went smoothly, without a hitch and there would be no Frankenstein standing in the way.

Even if that wasn't possible, maybe Jekyll would have returned from wherever he had gone. He would be waiting, ready to explain everything with guilty reluctance.

Heck, Lanyon would even take an amnesiac Jekyll by this point. He could show Jekyll everything he forgot, teach him what he was missing and slowly bring his friend back.

But the room was empty when that door opened. It was empty as it had always been. Nothing had changed.

He had stood there, in silence, reminding himself that this wasn't all some horrendous nightmare. No matter how much he pinched himself, he wouldn't wake up.

With Hyde gone, he stood there for a little longer, distantly wondering if Jekyll was still in that room in some way.

He shook his head and, with a heavy heart, dragged himself back to work.

  
  


It was late at night. Frankenstein had been resting for most of the day but she didn't want to sleep any more. She had things to do and she wished her illness wouldn't keep getting in the way of that.

Creature had told her a lot. He had met Edward Hyde when he had first arrived in London and Hyde had been the one who had taken him back to the society. Creature clearly didn't have a high opinion of Jekyll's assistant judging by his account.

What was really interesting though was what Creature had heard Edward saying.

While on the way to the society, Edward Hyde had been talking to himself.

"He called his invisible conversation partner Jekyll." Creature had said, "He's quite loud, I'm surprised nobody's heard this before."

"How do you know it was the actually Dr Jekyll and Hyde wasn't just..." She trailed off. It wasn't her deliberately rejecting Creature's hypothesis but she wanted to be certain before she made any sort of move.

"I don't. But, when I finally met Dr Jekyll, I overheard him talking to himself as well on several occasions and _his '_ imaginary friend' was called Hyde. Moreover, Hyde vanished when Jekyll showed up and Jekyll vanished when Hyde showed up. They also have a few things in common," Creature tilted his head, "Neither of them can keep their mouths shut."

"So when I told you about the crazy ideas Jekyll had come up with..."

"I merely put two and two together. I assume Edward Hyde is this 'evil half' of Jekyll's."

"...He doesn't seem evil."

Creature shrugged.

Frankenstein mused over the new information for a long time. It made sense but it wasn't enough to prove anything.

One vanished as the other appeared. Now _that_ was interesting. She had heard Jekyll's voice from Hyde's mouth and vice versa.

Was it possible that it wasn't a perfect split then? Did the pair still share a body? They didn't look the same, not by a long shot but...

She had asked Lavender for a pen and paper under the guise of trying to entertain herself while she was sick. Lavender had been all too willing to give her what she wanted.

It was in the dead of night by candle light that she pressed the pen to paper. Hyde didn't want to see her face to face but there was another way she could talk to him.

After a moment of thinking, she began to write.

  
  


A jolt of awareness.

A tangle of limbs and the pain of something solid striking his back.

Arms and legs tangled in a cat’s cradle of blankets and sheets.

Hyde, having tumbled off his makeshift bed in his sleep, lay on the floor face-up, nursing the new bruises on his back and grumbling internally.

He couldn’t remember what he had been dreaming about but his head was clouded by a mixture of sleep, pain and a strange concoction of emotions, the sticky remnants of his dream clinging to his mind like cobwebs. Most prominent was the whisper of fear that told him that his dream had in fact been a nightmare of sorts.

He lay there, breathing heavily face up, eyes flicking about as he tried to remember where he was.

It was dark. He could barely see the room aside from a sliver of moonlight through the curtains. The darkness made the room colourless, made up of shadows and silhouettes.

Right. Lanyon’s house. Lanyon’s couch. The cruddy little prison he had been confined to because he was wanted by the police and apparently couldn’t stand his own friends anymore.

Several more deep gulps of breath, letting the fear drift away and letting the waking world become just a bit more real to him.

He sighed, the pain fading from his back and shifted, preparing himself to get back to bed.

Just when he thought the dream was gone, never to be remembered, something tore through his head like an arrow. He screamed, clutching his head as memories spilled through, a floodgate opened.

They were messy, tangled, difficult to understand.

_Jekyll! My name! I'M HENRY JEKYLL!_

That was the thought that came to him, _screamed_ to him, with certainty there on the floor, painful as a knife. He _remembered._

His memories were torn, shredded, but he could make out enough. He was Dr Jekyll. He had _always_ been Dr Jekyll!

Jekyll clawed at the floor, scrambling to his feet. The room seemed to sway and his head spun. It was difficult to keep a hold on his thoughts but he knew he had to. He had spent so long, tried so hard to reach this point, fought so desperately.

The real world was a shock to him after so long half in limbo and half in Hyde. Even in the dark, everything was sharper to him, his every emotion so much clearer and his thoughts, although still fuzzy, were at least a little more coherent than before.

Lanyon. He had to find Lanyon. Had to tell him before those memories were gone.

Stumbling, Henry ran for the door. He sprinted out into the house he knew all too well and cried out.

"Robert! ROBERT!"

It was so difficult to think, his thought process like sludge, thick, viscous and easily dripping through his fingers – Sand in an hourglass quickly running out.

"ROBERT! WHERE ARE YOU!"

Where was he? Why wasn't he coming?!

He tripped and slammed into a door frame, the wood painful. He forced the pain away and stumbled on.

The stairs went around in a U-turn on the way up. Between his urgency, speed and dizziness. He tripped on the stairs, smacking himself against the wall, fingers scrabbling at it. As much as it hurt, the physical pain kept him grounded, it cleared his head just a little. The physical touch of the wall beneath his hands reminded him that everything was real. It helped him to keep going.

He yelled and screamed the whole way up, heading straight for Lanyon's room.

Lanyon's room. Safety. He would go in there, tell Lanyon everything. He could help. He could help him. He would listen and be there by his side like always. He would fix everything.

Already his thoughts were becoming fractured, breaking apart and away.

The doorknob was cool to the grip. He twisted it and pushed against the door. It swung open and Jekyll, leaning heavily against it, fell in, striking the floor.

"Lanyon! Lanyon!"

He crawled forward on his hands and knees, eyes wide with hope.

The curtains fluttered.

A trickle of moonlight spilled across the room from the window illuminating the room. In the dark, it picked out the bed, every detail clear to Jekyll’s wide eyes.

The bed…

It was...

The bed was unmade, was empty.

It was empty.

It… It was empty.

Lanyon wasn't there.

Jekyll froze.

No, no, he had to be, he had to be there!

"Lanyon?!"

He continued to crawl forward, movements slowing, nails scratching against the floor.

A stunted breath. His vision blurred as tears formed. They trickled down his face, soundless.

There was nobody there. The room was empty.

Empty.

_Surely he's here. Surely he heard me._

_...Does he not want to see me..?_

_Is he avoiding me?_

_Maybe... He... Wanted me... Gone..._

_...Maybe he... Always hated... Me... Always... Wanted..._

His thoughts were muddling, washed away with the tears running down his cheeks.

Jekyll pressed his head against the floor, curling into a ball.

Once again, his memories deteriorated, corroding away yet again.

He repeated his name again and again in his mind, as fruitless as it was. It was all he had to hold onto.

He knew it was hopeless but, at least, if he was focused on his name, he couldn't focus on the pain in his chest. The feeling of being so close, trying so hard, only to trip at the last hurdle.

Maybe this was best. It would be better if Lanyon never knew what he had become, what a monster he was.

Better to let Jekyll die as a saint than a sinner.

His name quietened in his ears, whispered again and again. Then it was just the impression of a word. Then silence.

The next day, daylight spilling between the curtains, Hyde would wake up on the floor in Lanyon's room, slightly achy.

He would grumble at the sunlight in his eyes and shut the curtains. He would then take in the empty room, confused, and decide that he had been sleepwalking.

Well what other explanation could there be?

  
  


Lanyon, meanwhile, woke up that morning, face first on Jekyll's desk. Piles of papers were scattered about him.

The sunlight wasn’t as much of a bother to Lanyon. The curtains had been shut. He couldn’t stand the damned theatre company out the window and, for all Jekyll’s prior assurances, he was certain that having it there would ruin the chances of the exhibition.

He took in his unusual sleeping position uncertainly.

It looked like, like Jekyll had been prone to do, Lanyon had fallen asleep while working. It was honestly a first for him and he wasn't sure how to feel about that.

He hadn't wanted to go home and face Hyde so he had stayed overnight to work on the exhibition. His cheeks burned with humiliation at the thought of confronting Edward.

On the other hand, he had been there for way too long. He was supposed to be keeping an eye on Hyde, something he had failed to do if Edward had managed to sneak back into the society, and he had no idea how much damage the little brat could have done to his house while Lanyon was gone.

He groaned loudly in the silent room and stomach shrivelled from embarrassment, he dragged himself back home.

Surprisingly, the house was still in tact when he got back. Even the inside was… Mostly intact.

Nothing had been damaged but Edward _had_ made a massive pillow fort in the living room. He was, at that moment in time, sat under the blankets he had used for a roof.

It was quite an impressive pillow fort. Lanyon didn't even think he had that many pillows.

After a short moment of thought, he decided he _didn't_ have that many pillows and certainly didn't recognize the blue one.

Tired from work, he decided to overlook it.

Edward was adjusting one of the pillows to straighten up his miniature fort a bit. His eyes flicked up as Lanyon entered and glinted with childish malice.

Lanyon braced himself. Here it comes.

"You look like a raccoon." Hyde chirped, gesturing vaguely towards Lanyon's facial region, "When was the last time you slept?"

"Last night."

"You weren't here when I looked."

"...Why were you looking at night?"

Hyde opened his mouth to reply. Frowned and shut his mouth, going straight back to his pillow fort.

Lanyon took a deep breath. Hyde clearly wasn't going to bring it up. Personally, he didn't want to either but he had to know.

"Hyde... About what you heard..."

"What I heard?"

He swallowed, "In Jekyll's office yesterday."

Hyde blinked at him with a blank look.

"What do you mean?"

Ok, now he was doing it on purpose. Why did he think for a second that Hyde wasn't going to make fun of him? His cheeks were flushed with anger and humiliation as he awkwardly continued.

"What I said about Jekyll."

That blank look again. As Lanyon took in Edward's expression, his blood began to run cold although he couldn't pinpoint why just yet.

"Do you bloody remember being in Jekyll's office?"

"Yeah. I was hid under the desk and you spotted me while I was trying to slip out the door."

Lanyon pinched the bridge of his nose.

"And about what I was doing in Jekyll's office?!"

Hyde mused for a second. "I'm... Not sure? You just sort of stood there."

"...You didn't hear me?"

"I was directly under you, I couldn't have _not_ heard anything. You said nothing."

Now Lanyon's entire body felt cold.

When he swallowed, he found his mouth to be uncomfortably dry.

"...Hyde..? What do you remember..?"

"I just told you. I hid under the desk. You came in and stood at the desk for a while. I tried to slip out while you were distracted and you spotted me."

"...No..." Lanyon's voice was barely a breath. He wasn't sure if he was speaking to Hyde or himself. "...You're not remembering correctly."

"What? I can't hear you when you mumble like that."

"Hyde. What do you remember from the past few days?"

"Being bored in your house."

"The society?"

"Oh and that." Hyde grumbled a bit, "You're acting really strangely, Lanyon, what is it?"

"Hyde..." Lanyon didn't know how to let him down gently. His suspicions were growing steadily and he didn’t like where they lead in the least. "...I don't think your memory loss stopped...” He said slowly. “I think you're still forgetting things."

Hyde stiffened. His back hit a pillow and his fort fell on top of him, burying him in sleeping supplies.

"I'm what now?!" Hyde crawled out from under the fort.

Oh Christ. If Hyde was still forgetting things, had he realized anything only to forget it later? Had Hyde at some point found something important only to forget it again?!

Hyde could have found anything out only to immediately lose it again.

"You heard me. I spoke aloud. As you said, there was no way you didn't hear me."

It was Jekyll. That was what he had been talking about.

But why?

Why Jekyll? Why were those the memories seemingly every time? Why did Hyde’s memories seemingly have some bias towards Henry?

"Do you still remember Jekyll's face?"

"Yeah." Hyde made as if to make a sarcastic reply but then, after a moment of wriggling blankets off him, he seemed to think better of it. "Do you want me to draw him again?"

"No. If you remember him, that's good enough... Do you remember your relation to him?"

"He was my dad?"

Lanyon flinched. "I know what Rachel probably told you but he most certainly was not."

Hyde raised an eyebrow at him and stood up, brushing off his trousers.

"You mean the assistant thing then?"

"Yes." Lanyon sighed in relief. Don't panic. He hadn't lost that much memory.

...But why that particular conversation? Why would Hyde forget that specifically? Hyde seemingly hadn’t forgotten anything else he had been told about Jekyll but… But Robert’s feelings towards Jekyll..?

Robert made a strange decision there that he couldn't quite explain to himself.

"Hyde. Do you want me to tell you about my relationship with Jekyll?"

Edward stared at him, bewildered.

"Why?"

"Because those are the memories you lost. The overhearing thing. If... If you forgot them..." Lanyon struggled to explain to Hyde and, by extension, himself why he was about to give Hyde of all people such sensitive information. "If you forgot them, something tells me it's important."

"That's a weird logic right there."

"Just... Shut up." Lanyon sat down on a chair in silence for a few seconds psyching himself up. He took several deep breaths and, reaching into a nearby drawer, drew out a photo.

It was a picture from the early days of the society. Jekyll and Lanyon were at the forefront, the first lodgers to join the society standing behind them with varying facial expressions.

Jekyll had been happy that day, happier than he had been in a while. It had been the first time in a long while that Lanyon had heard Jekyll laugh and hearing that sound had, at the time, made him want to weep tears of joy.

Even if he hated the society, he was thankful that it had given Jekyll his laugh back. Robert was almost jealous that the lodgers had managed to pull him out of his shell, something he had been trying to do for months.

Hyde stared at the photo with uncharacteristic silence. His expression was unreadable.

"I knew Jekyll from my university years. We were both trying to become doctors and we kind of ended up in the same class together."

Lanyon ran a finger across the picture, tracing Jekyll's face. Even in the black and white photo, his eyes gleamed with renewed energy and sheer joy.

"He was quite the..." Lanyon stifled a snicker, "Well, you could say he was... He was clumsy, awkward and not exactly the best conversationalist. It was part of his charm. He was absolutely enamoured with the high society and... It was always amusing to me to see how his eyes would light up at the idea of balls and gentlemen. It was like he thought the upper class was some strange other world."

Hyde remained strangely silent.

Lanyon pressed on, barely paying attention to Hyde anymore. His eyes were fixed on the sweep of hair, his finger brushing at it as though he could brush those few loose strands out of his face.

"He kept trying though. He tried so hard and..." Lanyon drew in a deep, shuddering breath, feeling the start of tears burn at his eyes, "I found I really truly cared about him."

His eyes were prickling and he bit his lip hard, trying to use pain to recentre himself.

"I hated it. Seeing him suffer. In the weeks leading up to his disappearance he... Was deteriorating. I couldn't do anything but _watch_ as he fell apart. And they didn't _see_. They didn't even care about what they were doing to him because _she_ -" Lanyon remembered who he was speaking to and stuttered to a stop.

He looked nervously at Hyde’s face, looking for any sign that he was about to be made fun of.

Edward, however, was still silent. It was getting almost creepy.

"Edward?"

"...Because she was driving them on." Edward finished for him, his face blank, "Because Frankenstein had them all convinced he was some sort of villain. And then Jekyll started to believe it too because how could so many people be wrong?"

"...Edward..?" Robert asked hesitantly.

"And the more he believed it, the more he felt that people would be happier if he wasn't there." Hyde didn't even seem aware of Lanyon's presence anymore, he just continued, his voice devoid of emotion, "He wanted to be gone, wanted to leave. Maybe he never believed people would be happier without him. Maybe, in truth, he was just justifying his own decisions."

A chill ran down Lanyon's spine.

"...Decisions..? W... What decisions..?"

Hyde blinked and sat upright with a sudden jolt, knocking over another pillow stack.

"Edward..?"

"Ew." Hyde screwed up his face, "I just got all sappy."

"...Did you remember something?"

"Nothing I really wanted to remember." Edward crossed his arms and pouted, "I just kind of remember Jekyll being freakin' miserable. Constantly."

"Well..." Lanyon shrugged, "Before the stress of the exhibition, he was doing much better."

"Better than what?"

Lanyon hesitated to answer. This was _Hyde_. He wasn't trustworthy with that information. On the other hand, Hyde was acting strangely respectful and the more he knew, the better the chance of jogging his memories.

"...A year or two back, Jekyll... Well, he sort of started to… Go into himself a bit. He wouldn’t talk as much or really go out that much or even eat that much. He just stayed in his room. Rachel and I did the best we could but no matter what we tried he only seemed to be getting worse. Sure, he put on a good act but we could all tell." A small bubble of half-hearted laughter, "Then one day he just showed up, full of energy like nothing had ever happened. He suggested a society to take in mad scientists and change the way the public viewed them. I never really liked the idea but I couldn't turn him down, not when that society was the first thing to pull him out of his own head. So I agreed."

"And I saved that society." Hyde puffed himself up like a strutting swan, "So you owe me now!"

"You little-!"

Hyde laughed at Lanyon's angry face and Robert found himself softening at that childish laugh.

"You owe me first. I saved your life."

"That's not how this works!"

"It is." Lanyon insisted. "Consider your debt doubled for the amount I've had to put up with from you."

"I would like a lawyer!"

Lanyon laughed and, this time his laughter was genuine. He snorted, trying to stem his laughter only for his body to shake harder with mirth. Hyde's eyes rounded in alarm.

"Wow, I didn't think you could laugh. You kind of sound like a pig when you laugh."

"And you sound like a five year old girl _all_ the time, what's your point?" Lanyon managed between snorts. He took a deep breath, recomposing himself. "Well, now that that's over and done with, I'll be telling you about Jekyll daily from now on."

"Why?"

"If you're still forgetting things, I'll just have to repeat it to you until it fixes there."

"Ugh. So it's like homework?"

"Do you want your memories back or not?"

Hyde was oddly quiet.

"...You _do_ want to remember, don't you?"

"I don't... I don't know. Guess we're about to get sappy again, huh?"

Lanyon cocked his head at Hyde curiously.

"...I can't really explain it but... I just have this feeling like... Like..." Hyde threw up his hands in annoyance, "Like if I get my memories back, I'll lose everything! People will hate me again and I'll be made fun of all over again! Heck, people like me now! They're nice to me, they're looking after me! You, Rachel, the lodgers!"

...Lanyon didn't really understand what on Earth Hyde was talking about so he just nodded his head like he understood.

"Whatever." Hyde stood up and brushed off his trousers, "I'm going to find some more pillows."

"Keep out of my room!"

"Whatever, mum!"

And Hyde was gone.

Lanyon kind of regretted not getting Hyde to explain himself. Now that Hyde was gone, some new gut feeling tickled at him, insisting that what Hyde had said was important somehow.

But, in the words of Hyde, "Whatever."

Lanyon began to drag blankets and pillows back to their proper places, feeling oddly lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this was kind of a plot dump.   
> There have been a few small moments where Hyde would remember something only to forget it again in a moment - Hyde can continue to lose memories if he's reminded of something too personal to his old life and it's been happening in smaller moments throughout, this was just the first time somebody noticed. If you were to ask Hyde _what_ exactly he saw during his hallucinations in Lanyon's bathroom, he would quickly realize that he doesn't remember. He just knows blood and eyes were involved.  
> Also, Jekyll's sort of getting better. It's not the greatest but he's now come back once.   
> It's the small victories in life that matter even if Jekyll doesn't think so. Then again, Jekyll's just a bundle of emotions that can occasionally think right now so it's understandable that he fixates on the failure rather than the success.
> 
> I wonder what Lanyon's neighbours thought about all that yelling and screaming from his house in the dead of night.


	13. Appearance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ito makes a horrifying discovery.

Ito took a breath. Clutched in her hands was a vial of glowing green fluid. On the desk before her was a cage with a single rat watching her curiously through the bars.

She kind of felt bad for the little thing, knowing that the potion had almost killed Hyde in the past. It could do any number of horrible things to the poor creature, especially if it was only meant for human consumption.

The glass was placed on the table with a clink and she prepared herself mentally. This could be it. Maybe it was too much to hope but, perhaps, this test would reveal exactly what had happened to Dr Jekyll and, better yet, how to save him.

Or it could fail miserably and leave them all adrift with no answers.

She wouldn't think about that for the time being.

She had found the right ingredients for the potion scattered about Jekyll's lab and, those she couldn't find, she had gotten from other places. Luckily the rarest ingredients were kept in Jekyll's lab so it wasn't much trouble.

She dripped a few drops onto a small piece of food - by her calculations, enough for the mass size of the rat. The food was placed in the cage and she waited, eyes fixed on the rat.

It was a rather large brown creature with round ears and a pinkish nose.

It scuttled towards the food, head low and cautious.

Long whiskers twitched curiously as it examined the green gunk. It cocked its head to one side, sniffed and backed off a few steps.

Ito had made sure the animal hadn't eaten anything else lately. It would have to eat what she had given it or starve, as cruel as it was.

The rat tried to nibble around the green stuff but found it couldn't. It tried again and again from every angle but Ito had been ruthless. There wasn't anything but the tiniest spaces between the potion which left the rat no leeway: Eat it _with_ the potion or not at all.

It's whiskers twitched once, twice.

It bit into it.

Ito sucked in a sharp breath and pushed herself closer on her chair.

The rat chewed for several seconds, cautiously at first and then began to speed up to a rapid pace.

Then, it's chewing began to slow again. It became more hesitant, beady eyes blinking in a puzzled way.

That's when it suddenly convulsed sharply.

It was a violent movement like a frog had just leapt inside the rat's stomach. It knocked the rat onto its back. It squeaked, distressed, the squeak cut short by another convulsion. It's tiny legs scrabbled at the air and it's head twitched back and forth and it squealed in pain and distress.

Green fluid was leaking from its mouth and eyes now, small rivulets spilling into puddles in the sawdust around it. It's legs snapped and twisted in painful, breaking motions and she was certain that, at any moment, she would see the miniature bones jutting from the flesh.

Ito could barely watch, the tiny shrieks of agony each driving another dagger through her heart.

Then she noticed something strange and her guilt was quickly forgotten.

It's fur was lengthening.

Ito pushed herself forward again, eyes wide.

It was shrinking even as its fur grew. Its ears tapered into sharper points and its rodent teeth were lengthening. The fur, previously brown, was lightening to a sandy colour with white patches across the back.

Finally, it stopped convulsing and the rat pulled itself to its feet and shook itself off. It seemed bewildered at the change, examining its new body, sticking its nose curiously into the thick layers of soft fur.

Ito couldn't breathe.

She watched as the rat snapped at its own tail violently, whisking the tail side from side. It spun in a circle again and again, clearly confused but no longer distressed. It sniffed curiously, staring around it as though it was just seeing the world for the first time. Maybe it was her imagination, brought on by shock, but she could swear its mouth was twisted into a toothy grin.

It scampered through the cage with renewed energy, unaware of the aghast scientist watching it go.

That wasn't any sort of teleportation or dimension hopping. It had changed the rat into... A different rat..? But what did that-?

Oh.

Oh God no.

She stood up a lot more sharply than she meant to, knocking over the chair in the process.

Lanyon had heard Jekyll scream. Jekyll had been in pain when he had disappeared.

The rat had been in pain.

Hyde had been inside the room. He had appeared when Jekyll had disappeared.

The rat had turned into a different rat.

Sandy, long fur. Blonde, long hair.

Her breath was choked.

Jekyll wasn't missing. He had never gone anywhere at all.

He had _never_ left.

 _Hyde_ had never left.

Because they were...

Because they were... The same..?

In her head was unravelling a hundred memories. Every conversation with Jekyll, every time she had dragged Hyde away from something dangerous. Every time she had seen Hyde enter Jekyll's lab but had never seen him come out.

The fire, Hyde's confidence, his drama and flare. Jekyll's drama and flare, Jekyll's confidence.

Hyde freaking out at the mention of Frankenstein. Hyde freaking out at the mention of the one who had been making fun of Jekyll for the past several weeks. Hyde freaking out at the mention of the one who had been making fun of _him_ for the past several weeks.

She was caught between the horrifying realization that the two seemingly polar opposites were the same and the realization of the extent of Jekyll's distress.

Ok, there had to be a better explanation than that. Jekyll and Hyde couldn't be the same person! That was crazy! That was insane! The pair of them were nothing alike!

...Right?

Did they share memories? Did they identify as the same person or was Hyde more like another personality entirely?

The rat, which was now hung upside down from the bars of the cage gleefully, couldn't give her a response.

She tried to calm herself for a moment, distancing herself from the situation and paying more attention to the rat.

Symptoms seemed to include an increased happiness and energy, a seeming increase in aggressiveness too. Nothing that would seem out of place in a normal rat.

If she hadn't seen the transformation, she would have no idea that there was anything strange about that rat at all. It was simply more of a runt than most rats.

So the transformation created some sort of euphoria in the user which would explain why Jekyll kept using it. That meant it was potentially addictive too.

She continued to watch the rat for several more seconds.

Her mind turned slowly, thoughts wading through the shock.

...Now, here was the real question: How did she reverse the effects?

Clearly the potion didn’t wear off on its own but, if that was the case, how had he changed back before? He hadn't been stuck as Hyde permanently before so there had to be an antidote of some kind.

She sorted through the notes again, ignoring the way her hands shook. There was no mention of a cure.

She put down the notes slowly and took a deep, shuddering breath.

Ok, _great_. So one mystery was solved but Jekyll apparently hadn't seen fit _to include the_ **God Damned Cure** _in his notes!_ She hadn't taken Jekyll to be such a _bleeding_ moron but it seemed he must have also been experimenting with removing brain cells in his spare time because she couldn't imagine how someone could be _that_ short sighted!

When this was over, she was having some very colourful words with Jekyll about this.

She placed her head in her hands. How was she supposed to explain this to Rachel? To _Lanyon_?!

Oh yeah, by the way, Jekyll's been here the entire time! Isn't that fantastic? He's right over there. He has amnesia, is now about 5 foot tall and behaves like a completely different person! Go say hi!

Oh, Lanyon? You know the person you blamed for the fire in an attempt to clear Jekyll's name? Well you blamed Jekyll to _save_ Jekyll! Funny that, huh? Jekyll's wanted by the police because of you!

Ok, ok. Calm down. She was starting to get hysterical.

She couldn't tell Lanyon or Rachel. She barely believed it herself and she really didn't know quite how to phrase it in a way that would make them understand. She could quite understand Jekyll's secrecy now. This was a secret he had wanted to take to the grave and who was she to deny him that?

Ok, _maybe_ she was kind of making excuses to avoid being the one to tell them but it didn't matter. She just needed to find the cure. She didn't need to tell them to do that.

Or... She calmed herself yet again, pushing back the hysteria... She could wait until she was in a better emotional state and then tell them. They deserved to know and it was selfish of her to keep quiet out of fear.

Next question, while she gathered the courage to spill the horrifying information, what should she do now?

She ran her fingers through her hair and, unable to look at the rat any longer, stepped out and into the hallway. She pressed her back against the wall, still shaking.

There were footsteps and she looked up, too exhausted to hide what a state she was in.

It was Creature. There was a tiny letter pinched between his fingers and it was kind of amusing to see how small it was compared to him.

"Frankenstein wants to deliver a message." Creature said bluntly, not bothering to ask about her distress.

"Where to?"

"Edward Hyde."

She blinked, surprised and then narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "...Why?"

"Private."

The pair stared each other down for a while. Creature cocked his head curiously for a second.

"...Do you..? Actually, never mind."

If Ito had been in a better emotional state, she probably would have questioned that statement. As it was, she just held out her hand wearily.

"Give it to me, I'll make sure he gets it."

"Don't tell him where it came from."

"There's nothing particularly bad in this note, right?" She asked, "Hyde's emotional state hasn't been the best lately and I wouldn't want to give him something that could set him off."

“I don’t know, I didn’t write it but I don't think so.”

“You know what? Good enough for me.”

Creature just nodded and left, leaving the note with her. Ito groaned and once again ran her fingers through her hair, not really caring about the letter - she had bigger things on her mind.

“Oh Henry,” She sighed, “What on Earth have you done to yourself?”

This would require a lot of thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in my first plan of this, Ito and Frankenstein were going to team up on the letter to snap Hyde back to reality but then I realized that there's something much more interesting I can do with this.  
> I'm weeping tears of joy because my loose plot threads are coming together - The fact that the lodgers aren't aware of Hyde's amnesia and Frankenstein by extention, the fact that Frankenstein knows more about Jekyll and Hyde than anyone else, the exhibition.  
> It's that Kronk meme of "Oh yeah, it's all coming together." Like, I didn't plan anything but somehow I have a coherant conclusion and I don't care if it sucks because it works plotwise.
> 
> Also, this was originally a part of a longer chapter but it felt really weird to have something as big as the reveal at the start of the chapter? And I couldn't think of any good enough filler stuff to put before it to fix it.  
> So this is a short but dramatic chapter. Maybe that works anyway? Maybe.  
> The next chapter will probably come pretty quickly because it's mostly the stuff from this chapter that I've already written out.


	14. Worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward and Robert receive a note.  
> Robert comes to a revelation regarding his feelings towards Hyde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Well I did say the next chapter would be soon.  
> If you're someone like me who sees an update on a fanfic and jumps straight to the last chapter, you might have missed a short one I posted yesterday. Or maybe not, I don't know how often people check for updates. It probably varies.

True to his word, Lanyon was determined to remind Hyde every five minutes information about Jekyll. He would quiz him every time they passed in the halls and Hyde was quickly finding himself as the one being annoyed for once.

What was worse was that he couldn't even complain.

As he learnt from the quizzing, he was forgetting things. He was forgetting them startlingly quickly. He was almost convinced that Lanyon had lied about telling him these things but the worried look on Lanyon's face told a different story.

He would tell Hyde again what he had forgotten and Hyde would do his best to keep his mind on the new fact, determined not to forget it.

Then Lanyon would ask him something else and he would find that, in trying to remember the other fact, he had forgotten everything else. The cycle was steadily driving him nuts with frustration.

"This isn't even important." Hyde complained, "Knowing what kind of food Jekyll liked isn't going to help bring him back."

"And what was it?"

"Don't know, don't care."

Lanyon glared, arms crossed.

"I don't care!" Hyde insisted, "Memory problems or not, I would forget something as trivial as that anyway! _Jekyll_ would probably forget that!" He huffed and, a little more quietly, "I don't remember my _own_ favourite food."

"Women?"

"Watch it, long-nose."

Lanyon sighed, uncrossing his arms. He was about to say something when there was the soft clank and thud of something being pushed through the mail-slot.

"Oh, look at that," Hyde was already walking off, "A distraction!"

"Hey!" Lanyon rushed after him, "Don't go through my letters!"

Hyde was already picking up the pile of papers. "Oh. Look at all these bills." He sorted through them, "Letters of condolence about Jekyll, spam mail, more bills... Hey, what's this?"

He fished a note out of the pile.

"Hey!" Lanyon snatched it out of his hands, "No reading my letters!"

"It's addressed to me!"

"That's ridiculous, nobody even knows you're- Huh?" He looked down at the letter and, sure enough, in gleaming black ink was the name of Edward Hyde. Lanyon frowned, bewildered. "...It's... Not Rachel's handwriting..."

Hyde plucked it out of Lanyon's hands and began to eagerly tear it open.

"Edward! You don't know what that is, it could be-"

"What? A bomb?" Hyde shot Lanyon a look, "A tracking device? Half the police force stuffed into a teeny tiny envelope? Lay off."

He prised a pristine white paper from the envelope and unfurled it, eyes darting over the lettering. Lanyon tried to lean over his shoulder to read it but Hyde jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow.

"It could be private." Hyde sniffed. Lanyon glowered, rubbing his bruised rib.

His eyes flicked across the paper and something cold settled in his stomach, his signature grin dropping from his face.

 _Dear_ _~~Dr~~ _ _Hyde,_

_I'm not entirely sure how to start this letter. There's a lot of questions I have for you and a lot of things I would like to say._

_On the other hand, you seem quite desperate to keep your secret as a secret and a letter isn't the most private way to talk to someone._

_So I'll just say a few things._

_First of all, I know who you really are._

_I'm not planning on telling anyone so you don't have to worry. Your secret is safe with me. After all, I do know what it's like to have to keep a_ _~~failed~~ _ _experiment under wraps._

_As I've already said, I have a lot I would like to ask about the situation if you ever felt comfortable enough to do so. Like how you’ve done this. Or why. Or how long this has been going on for._

_Second of all,_ _~~as much as it pains me,~~ _ _I would like to apologize._

 _I am aware that your decisions as of late might be_ _~~a little~~ _ _due to me. I misinterpreted you and I see that now._

_But you can't keep doing this. I know you can see how much your decision is hurting everyone around you._

_~~It's selfish of you.~~_ _~~You need to stop this.~~_ _I'll apologize in person. I'll apologize as much as you want if you just stop. You may not believe me but I genuinely care about_ _ ~~your~~_ _the lodgers in the society and I hate seeing them like this. I'll do anything if you just stop doing this to them. They really care about you. I didn't really realize it before but now_ _ ~~that you're gone~~_ _they won't stop talking about you. They have all these tales to tell about all the things you've done for them and sometimes it feels like every single one of them has one story or another of the things you’ve done for them_ _._ _~~Rescuing them from jail even if it took putting yourself on the line to do so? Saving them from the streets or from the public even at the risk of your reputation~~_ _ ~~?~~_ _ ~~Helping them with their experiments even when some of them were kind of dangerous?~~_ _They all go against what I thought you were when I first heard of you. I always saw you as_ _ ~~some stuck-up gentleman who cared more about your reputation~~_ _~~than people~~_ _a danger to their freedom but now I see what you were really trying to do._

_Your friends care about you as well. Even if you don't care about the lodgers, surely you care about how your actions are impacting them._

_And what about_ _how it's impacting you? I'm certain what you've done to yourself can't be healthy in the long term. I don’t know exactly how it will effect you but I’m sure it won’t be good._

_As I said, I'll keep quiet but you have to promise me you'll stop._

_If this continues on, I_ _ will _ _tell someone._

 _I care about your well-being_ _but I care about the lodgers more._

 _I'm sorry but this threat is necessary. I will force your hand if I have to_ _– This has gone on long enough._

_I hope you consider what I've said._

_Sincerely,_

_~~Franke~~_ _~~A friend.~~_ _An acquaintance._

Hyde slowly lowered the note. He hadn't even noticed Robert reading over his shoulder. His throat felt weirdly tight and it was hard to breathe. When he lifted his hands to his throat, he found no obstructions.

"...Who you really are?" Robert asked, "What does that mean?"

Hyde tried to breathe. Nothing came in.

"Edward?"

Can't breathe. Can't breathe. Can't-

"Edward! Hey!"

_They'll tell?! No, no, no! They can't!_

"Edward?!"

_They can't know, nobody can find out! They can't find out what I did!_

“Hey, breathe, remember? Breathe.”

Hyde sucked in a breath, almost subconsciously following Lanyon’s instructions. How often had Lanyon done this for him? Calmed him down when he had panicked?

It was somewhat humiliating to think about.

He took several more breaths, steadily calming himself down.

Lanyon gripped Hyde’s shoulders, keeping him anchored to reality.

Even after Hyde felt better, they stayed there in silence for a little longer. Robert waited patiently, letting Hyde ready himself.

“I… I don’t know what the letter is talking about.” Hyde admitted, “I genuinely don’t know.”

“...That’s fine.” Robert soothed but Edward could see a pained look in his eyes. Obviously Lanyon badly wanted to know and something guilty twitched in his chest at the sight. Edward stomped it back down.

“...I wonder who sent it?”

Robert looked back over the note. “I don’t recognize the handwriting.”

“Neither.” Hyde hissed through his teeth in frustration, “So, we have someone who knows something about me. Someone who might be able to solve this whole mystery in a second.”

“...But they’re keeping quiet to respect your privacy.” Robert finished.

They both looked at each other in a long moment of silence.

“I’m not the only one pissed off as hell by this, right?” Edward asked.

"Not the phrasing I would use but," Lanyon's face twisted into a scowl. "Yes. I think I'm rather ticked off by this."

Robert snatched up the note, his eyes running back over it again and again.

It seemed they both would have a lot to think about.

  
  


The strange letter remained in Hyde's head for the rest of the day. It wasn't just the cryptic wording, it was the way that something in those words seemed to click in his head. He felt like they would make sense to him if he just remembered why.

Just as he was starting to get used to not remembering things, that damned letter had to show up and throw a spanner in the whole works. His desperate need to remember was back tenfold and it was going to drive him crazy not knowing. He hoped Lanyon could find whoever sent the letter so they could throttle the truth out of them.

Lanyon had went out, looking for the sender of the letter while Hyde paced the house like a caged animal.

It was while wondering about the note that his eyes caught a glint of something in the light.

It was his own reflection in a mirror above the mantelpiece and he took in his haggard appearance. He really looked like he hadn't gotten enough sleep recently.

Edward groaned and combed back some straggles of hair with his fingers. After his hallucinations in Lanyon's bathroom, he had avoided washing. His hair had become greasy in the days following and now hung down in clumped ropes, shiny with grease and speckled with dust and dirt. It shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did but something in his gut twisted at the sight.

 _I've really let myself go._ He thought.

He sighed. He might as well give the bath another shot. Maybe being cleaner would improve his mood a little bit. At the very least, some hot water would help clear his head.

_"Somebody sent that note."_

Hyde stopped dead in his tracks. The voice rang clearly in his head, oozing with misery.

He slowly turned to face the source of the voice and saw his reflection again. His reflection was staring at the floor, hair hung over his face. It was an eerie sight and sent a chill up Edward's spine.

 _"Somebody knows."_ His reflection continued. It was a voice similar to his but slightly off. His usual high, screechy voice was a little deeper and it rasped just a bit less. It was subtle but it made a heck of a lot of difference. Remembering the last time he spoke to this figment of his imagination, Hyde was braced for another breakdown. _"I should be happy. They know. If they know then they can help me. They could..."_

The reflection trailed off and its body juddered slightly. Hyde realized that it was crying. Tears of blood spilled down its cheeks.

_"So why aren't I happy? Why am I so scared?"_

Edward wasn't sure how to respond.

 _"How are they going to_ _**think**_ _of me? They'll think I'm a coward! That I hid away from them because I couldn't take the pressure! I let them believe I was dead and they're going to hate me for it!"_

Pearly drops of blood prickled at the corners of the mirror, running down the glass in rivulets.

 _"They would be right but... But I don't want to go back to that! I don't want them to see me as some sort of monster! I don't want to go back to the mockery and hatred and-"_ Another sob. The reflection collapsed to its knees, face in hands, trembling.

"But they won't!" Hyde protested, the words out of his mouth without even thinking about it, "They miss me! They never hated me at all, they... They just didn't realize how bad things were. It was partly my fault in the end but... But it was a shared effort." Hyde thought back to the moment where the lodgers had comforted him. "We're all to blame for this but we can make this right. Together."

_"No."_

Hundreds of eyes watched intently, all focused on the reflection. Not one of them paid attention to Hyde.

_"They miss me because I'm gone. Because they feel guilty. They don't really care and they don't really want me back for anything other than closure. But they know, this letter proves it. They've got the closure they needed so I'm not needed."_

"What kind of _ridiculous_ train of thought-?!"

_"They prefer Hyde. They prefer Edward Hyde. Ito said it herself. Better to have Hyde than me."_

It felt like arguing to a brick wall. The reflection didn't listen to him and it was frustrating him.

"Ito said that... She..." Hyde stuttered, struggling to find an argument, "You... You're taking things out of context! They can have both of us, it doesn't have to be one or the other!"

_"They're happier. I'm happier. Nobody's making fun of me. It's because I left."_

"What on _Earth_ has gotten into you!? You used to be the _bloody_ rational one!" Hyde spat at it, "Pull yourself together!"

 _"I've spent far too long trying to pull myself together.”_ It replied miserably, drooping, _“Why bother? What does it achieve?"_

"What does it _achieve? It's your bloody life, you idiot!_ A life that isn't wanted by the police! A life with friends! And an outdoors!"

_"What friends?"_

"Robert." Hyde retorted stubbornly.

_"Robert likes Hyde better now. He's gotten over it."_

"He's gotten-?! Christ, you've genuinely lost it! _Obviously_ he hasn't!"

No response.

"Snap out of it! Hey! Are you listening to me?!"

Still no response. Hyde approached the mirror and, reflected in the glass, he saw nothing but his own reflection. No blood, no eyes, just him looking twice as haggard as before.

Edward shook his head, feeling light-headed.

"Right..." He said at last, memories trickling out of his ears as easily as water down a slope, "Bath. That's what I was doing."

He wandered away from the mirror, not quite sure why his eyes kept being drawn back to the surface of the glass, looking for any sign of movement. Something uneasy sat in his stomach.

  
  


The mystery of the note hovered over Lanyon like a dark cloud for the next few days.

It was frustrating. Someone had figured it all out before any of them.

How? He had spent more time around Hyde than anyone. Even Hyde didn't know the truth but some stranger with a cryptic letter had pieced it all together.

And how _on Earth_ did they figure out some deep dark secret about Hyde but _didn't_ find out about his amnesia?

He asked everyone he could about the letter, looking for the slightest hint of hesitation in their answer, a flicker of the eyes that would suggest a lie when they said no.

The exhibition was approaching and yet that mystery continued to hover there. If this wasn't figured out soon then this mystery person would reveal some dark secret of Hyde's to everyone.

Did that secret have something to do with Jekyll? Would this mystery figure take down Jekyll and Hyde simultaneously or would it just be Hyde who took the hit? Either way, he couldn't allow this to happen.

Hyde's psyche was fragile and whatever this secret was, it could shatter him. It could ruin any chance of finding Jekyll.

And...

And it would hurt Hyde.

Lanyon hesitated in his quick strides through the society.

...Did he care about Hyde?

If you had asked him that question only a few days ago, he would have laughed. Of course not. Hyde was loud, annoying, disgusting and simply a means to an end, a chess piece to be discarded once his purpose was finished.

After what he had done to Jekyll, he deserved whatever he got.

Now however, things had been flipped on their head.

Jekyll wasn't some saint, innocent of Hyde's sins, and neither was Edward a pure force of evil. It was like finding out that the sky was really green and the grass was actually blue. It wouldn't have made sense before but now he had seen it with his own eyes, it was difficult to dispute.

...He cared about Hyde. He really _cared_ about Hyde.

This wasn't just about Jekyll anymore, this was about keeping his _new_ friend safe.

It was a truth he would never admit to anyone else and could barely even admit to himself.

But it was the truth.

Lanyon ran his fingers through his hair and swore quietly under his breath. Well this was a complication to things.

He couldn't hide Edward from the police forever, he couldn't just keep Edward in his house for the rest of his life. The plan was get information out of Edward, drop him. How was he supposed to deal with this?

He swore again, even quieter this time.

...This might require a bit of rethinking.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Frankenstein finally has an actual role besides source of trauma.  
> Tadah~  
> Now take a wild guess based on the contents of the note where _this_ is going. No prizes for guessing correctly.
> 
> So I kept forgetting to bring this up so I'll say it now. Each of the chapter names are named after one of the things that makes up a person's identity. Originally I was going to name it after each part of himself that Hyde lost when he lost Jekyll but I realized I would run out of chapter names too quickly. He still has his friends and enemies, after all, and traces of his personality such as fears.  
> Body seems like kind of an out of place one because it's not mental but I still consider it a factor in a person's identity.


	15. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The exhibition comes and, with it, everything comes together.
> 
> And everything falls apart.

It was actually a larger turnout to the exhibition than Lanyon had expected. The stragglers from the Blackfog Bazaar seemed to have all come, either because they missed the Bazaar or didn't feel it had been long enough or because they couldn't go at all because it was illegal.

What was most surprising, however, was Jekyll's disappearance.

Lanyon had thought that people wouldn't want to go because of what happened to Jekyll. It was clear that the public considered the lodgers the cause of his disappearance after all, why would they want to be next?

But, although that would have been the case with the upper and middle classes, the criminals of London loved it. It was a sick display of publicity, the society that might have done something horrible to Jekyll. There was a morbid curiosity with many to see the creations that could have taken Jekyll down or the potential murderers working on them. It felt wrong to Robert to use Jekyll's suffering as advertising but it was a matter of gossip and, therefore, was out of his hands.

There was no choice but to smile and accept it.

What was even more worrying was glimpses of some of the upper or middle classes people joining the affairs. Most of them were clearly trying to keep a low profile, wearing ragged clothes and going by different names. Lanyon only recognized some of them because he had met them before – He couldn’t imagine how many there were in total. Maybe there were no criminals there at all, just morbidly curious ladies and gentlemen.

It seemed like Lucy had been right, people really did do that sometimes. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Robert didn't have the kind of grace and charm that Jekyll had. He spoke to guests, recommended lodger's exhibits, but, overall, he kept to the corner.

The lodgers were doing an ok job. Not great, not terrible. They were just doing as they always did.

Lanyon poured himself a glass of wine and watched, trying to ignore the Gordian knot of emotions sat in his stomach.

How was Edward doing at that moment? He had left the man at home in case anyone saw him and decided to turn him in.

Knowing Hyde, he would be incredibly bored. Lanyon couldn't help worrying about Edward's impulsiveness. He wouldn't be stupid enough to show up at the exhibition, he told himself, Edward was at least that cautious.

But it bugged at him. His eyes kept being drawn to the door, looking for a hint of blonde in the crowds before reminding himself of how paranoid he was being and tearing his eyes away.

 _Please._ He begged internally, _Please Edward, just. Stay. Put._

  
  


Edward was drifting.

It was dark and he was drifting.

If he had arms or legs or even a body to speak of, he couldn't feel it. Even his own head felt slow and wispy like every thought was a curl of smoke that floated from his head the moment it came to him. Mental fingers floated through the thought smoke, watching it coil lazily around his fingers.

_Need... Need to get out..._

He looked around.

_...Where's the... Exit..? How do I... Leave..?_

He couldn't see a way to leave. Even if he could, he had no way to propel himself towards the exit. He was just stuck there.

Edward hung there for a few seconds as his mind lazily processed this information.

_A note..._

He thought slowly.

_Spoken to... Though a note..._

_Never had to see the sender in person._

_Never had to... Meet face to face..._

Blink.

_A note._

His mind seemed to be turning without him and he felt disconnected from the train of thought occurring. It felt like someone else speaking to him, it felt like his own thoughts were not his own, simply steam from someone else's engine.

Then he was in a long corridor, walking down it slowly.

It stretched before him, long and twisting. No matter what angle it twisted at, he was stood comfortably on the floor. He felt weightless and there was a blue glow to everything. His form moved in a haze further and further down and it felt all too distant to him. Even his own self was distant to him, more like he was watching himself walking and less like he was making the actions himself. It was a struggle to keep himself moving, a puppet attached by strings too long, too far from the puppeteer to control properly.

No, he couldn't give up. He just had to focus. Keep going, keep going. It would all be worth it in the end.

Things grinned at him from the darkness of corners. Long tongues and glowing eyes and claws that tapped and scratched at the walls. They waited, almost mocking.

 _We don't have to do a thing._ They seemed to say. _You can't keep a hold on yourself long enough to succeed and, when you fail, we'll be there to drag you back._

Let them mock. He was going to try. He _had_ to try.

They spoke of mindless fear, of an empty, thoughtless nothingness bleeding through with misery and animalistic terror.

It dripped from their corners, dissolving the corridor to a black abyss. The abyss grew behind him, slowly at first but, then, it began to catch up with him, bit by bit getting faster.

He began to run. Then to sprint.

The nothingness bit at his heels, the corridor behind him vanishing. The ground beneath his feet faded away with each step and he saw a deep crimson within the holes.

He continued to run, teeth gritted. He didn't have the focus to panic about the situation, his only thoughts were on the destination, on succeeding.

The hallway kept going.

And going.

And going.

It twisted, it looped, it danced. The hallway itself mocked him for even trying to tame it. Whenever he saw a door, it would dance away from the door, his exit dissolving into scarlet bloodshed.

And going.

And going.

And-

And a door stood before him, distant but there. He threw himself at it with renewed vigour. His breath was fast, short and he glared, daring it to disappear, daring it to fade. It began to crumble at the edges but he was so close. So almost there. He lunged at the door, clutching the quickly vanishing door handle and dragged it open. He leapt inside and slammed it shut behind him just as something reached for him through the fear.

He gasped for breath but didn't have the time to sit there and regather himself.

The world folding in on itself around him, he did what he could. His thoughts danced like the corridor, twisting and rearing in his head, an untamed horse that refused to let him ride. They flitted from him, escaping his grasp one by one but he continued to do what he was doing, refusing to slow down, refusing to try to grab a thought that would inevitably dart off.

His hands moved quickly, the world around him shrinking as his thoughts faded bit by bit. The room crumbled and shrivelled like a paper with water spilled over it. The ink ran black and red, lettering turning to smudges and smears.

He continued, not even looking up. Again. Again. Yet again. He made the same motions each time, not bothering to think of anything else to do.

The room became a small space with no doors or windows, then it was just him and his task. Then his task faded as well, leaving him nothing. He sat there, watching things from the dark creep in.

Somehow, even as his body began to dissolve into the ink, the nothingness spreading up his legs and arms, all feeling lost to numbness...

  
  


Henry Jekyll somehow managed a triumphant smile.

  
  


  
  


Edward snapped awake. His head still felt way too light as though the weight of his own thoughts had evaporated from it. He shook away his light-headedness and took in where he was.

It was Lanyon's house.

More specifically, it was his office.

Edward didn't have a clue how he had fallen asleep there of all places. He stretched and yawned, blinking at the light through the windows. It was even more unusual that he had seemingly fallen asleep in the daytime.

A prickling of unease tickled his spine.

He shifted and knocked over an ink pot sat beside him, spilling ink across the desk. He stared at it for a second, uncertain at the strange yanking feeling in his heart.

It was then that Hyde realized that he was holding a pen in one hand. He stared at it dumbly for a second before his eyes drifted to the sheet of paper before him.

The writing was shaky, hurried and near illegible. Black scratches of ink.

_I''M RIGHT HERE._

This phrase was repeated again and again on the paper, each time getting larger and messier, some overlapping. Splotches of ink splattered the lettering. It was desperate and looked like the sort of note that a madman would write. The paper was more black than white from all the lettering.

...Was there a chill in the room? Edward Hyde was feeling very cold all of a sudden. His body shook hard.

He was only vaguely aware of it though, there was something tugging at his thoughts and his focus couldn't help drifting from the real world, from the note.

...The note..?

A weird haze seemed to settle on him for a moment. He struggled to regain his thoughts against the bout of dizziness.

Right, Frankenstein's note.

Wait, no, that wasn't what he had been thinking of.

He shook his head, taking in the room in bewilderment. What note had he been thinking of again? Had Lanyon sent him something or- Huh?

His eyes hit the paper in front of him again.

What..?

How had he just forgotten that note just like that?

He shook his head and he recalled Lanyon claiming that his memory loss had never stopped. He was still forgetting things.

He shifted uneasily in his chair, unsure what to think or how to feel about the weird lapse of thought.

Something tugged at his thoughts again like a finger pulling a loop of loose thread.

Hyde wrestled against it but felt it spool through his fingers, the friction burning. With a yelp, he let go and the thread of thought slipped from his grasp.

Edward Hyde blinked once. Slowly.

Why was he in Lanyon's office again?

It was just a bunch of old books. Lanyon had removed the gramophone so it wasn't like he could listen to music. All of the other unopened boxes had also been moved to God knows where. Overall, the room had lost all charm.

He shifted to move and his eyes yet again caught on the note. There was a dizzying moment of vertigo as he recalled why he was there and he cursed internally, panic beginning to well in him.

He had forgotten the note. Again.

But why? It meant absolutely nothing to him.

He chewed on his lip for a second, considering.

Would Lanyon understand it? Obviously it was a long shot but...

But Lanyon was doing the exhibition – He couldn't show up without risking being caught.

His memories slipped a little and Hyde had to pounce on them to stop them sliding out of his head. It was like a wretched wet bar of soap, it refused to stay in place, constantly trying to duck out from his grasp.

No, this couldn't wait. Whatever this was, it was important. Clearly he had written it to remind himself of something shortly before losing some important memory and he had to make sure that someone else read it before he forgot and lost the letter completely.

He shoved it in his pocket and slipped out the door. He donned the mask he had started to use for outings and began to run for the society.

  
  


Frankenstein watched the proceedings closely. It was... Janky, for better use of the word. Without Jekyll there, the lodgers were much less ordered, much more confused and chaotic. She hadn't really understood before how much Jekyll kept the society together but now that he wasn't there...

Her stomach fluttered nervously. She knew what she had to do. It had been long enough without any response from Hyde and she had to accept that, for whatever reason, he wouldn't change his mind.

She would have to take matters into her own hands.

A deep breath. It would be fine. Soon, she would end this nightmare that Jekyll had created. She would force him out into the open, force him to reveal his true self no matter the consequences.

Although, she was hoping there wouldn't be consequences. She had her fair share of consequences under her belt.

She continued to watch. The crowds swelled and diminished a few times but, as the day went on, the clusters of visitors became a scattering, then became one or two. Then it was just the lodgers.

The exhibition had went on for most of the day but clearly the proceedings had bored most of the visitors. She had expected it to go on through the night as well but the word seemed to be getting out that it wasn't the terrifying display of mad science and murder that people had been hoping for.

That didn't really matter in the end, they had made money – Enough to last just a little longer – and that was long enough.

It was long enough because Jekyll would be coming back and soon.

She took a deep breath and continued to wait as the lodgers began to pack up. She itched with anticipation and worry.

Still no show from Jekyll – Actual Jekyll, not Jekyll pretending to be Hyde. Not that she had expected him to after all this time but some faint hope had been there.

"Now?" Creature asked, seeing the increase in her fidgeting.

"Now." She agreed and tried to stand. Creature swooped in and picked her up, denying her the right to do things herself. She huffed and crossed her arms but there wasn't much she could do against him.

She was carried towards a makeshift stage set up in the room for a speech that Lanyon had done earlier. It had been better than most of the lodgers' talks but it still wasn't as good as Jekyll could have done.

Cradled in a sitting position in Creature's arms, the pair stood centre stage. The lodgers began to look up one by one, starting to notice that something was about to happen. They had looks on their faces that told her that they knew what was about to happen would be big, they just didn't know how just yet.

"Before I begin," Frankenstein's voice rang out clearly, "I have to ask if there are any stragglers? What I have to say is for the society's ears only."

Murmurings and glances about. Frankenstein's eyes flitted from one person to another. No nods, no stragglers.

Lanyon was slowly straightening himself from the corner, empty glass placed on a nearby table. There was a growing fear in his eyes as he watched her.

She shook it off and addressed the rest of the crowd.

"I have something very important to say concerning Jekyll's disappearance."

Shocked and alarmed murmuring from the crowd.

"-And Edward Hyde." She finished.

Lanyon jolted. He stared at her with eyes so wide that she could see the whites from all the way across the room. He began to push his way through the crowd towards her with increasing urgency.

Her eyes caught on something else and her gaze flicked to the doorway in time to see someone coming in. She hesitated, not wanting to continue if another guest had arrived.

Except it wasn't. She saw the glint of blonde, the flap of a cape.

Edward Hyde had shown up.

It was a sign, she decided. Having Hyde there was better than she could have hoped.

He was wearing a mask so she couldn't read his expression as he looked up at her. It was a nerve-racking sight, the hollow black eyes of the mask. It felt judging.

She shifted in her seat and, refusing to look at Hyde, continued.

"I know where Dr Jekyll is." She said. Her voice rang out and the room fell silent. Lanyon froze in his movements and looked up at her again. There was a mixture of hope and terror in his eyes, warring their way across his face. She tore her eyes away from him.

It didn't matter. He would want to hear this too.

She cleared her throat, mentally preparing herself to drop the hammer. She internally prayed to whatever gods might be out there. Let this go ok, please. Don't make this a mistake.

She finally spoke and, with that, the hammer dropped.

"Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde are one and the same."

And there it was.

Her words echoed in the large silence room, again and again off the walls, repeating. It rang in her ears again and again and she knew it did the same with everyone in the room.

It was out and nothing could take it back now whether she wanted to or not.

She shifted, licking her lips nervously, and surveyed everyone's reactions.

For a moment, it was like the world had frozen.

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

Everyone was caught in that one moment, frozen in time. Looks of shock, disbelief and some faces that were just processing – The information not even dawning on them yet. Nobody knew what to say, how to react.

Then uproar.

"That's not possible-!"

"But Jekyll is-"

"Edward Hyde is nothing like-"

"They don't even look-!"

She waited to let the outcry die down. She was patient, tapping a finger against her knee as she waited.

Her eyes drifted back to the hollow face of Hyde's mask. She wished she knew what he was thinking. He hadn't moved yet, hadn't made a sound.

She waited.

  
  


Lanyon felt like the ground had dropped out from beneath him.

...Had he... Misheard?

Edward Hyde was..?

The yelling in the room, louder and louder as each person tried to make themselves heard, drilled through his head. It made it difficult to think, difficult to process.

That was impossible. Frankenstein was wrong.

So why did those words tug at him? Why did it feel like something had clicked into place?

"If you would quiet." Frankenstein spoke with deathly coolness, "I will explain."

His eyes were fixed on her and he couldn't pull his gaze away.

The room quieted around him and it felt for a second that it was just him and Frankenstein. Everything else, everyone else, was white noise and shapes.

They didn't matter. Frankenstein mattered. Her words mattered.

Nothing else.

"A while back, before Jekyll disappeared, he explained a scientific theory of his to me. He suggested that the human soul could be split in two, separated into two separate components. I laughed at him and told him it would impossible but he insisted it worked." A pause, "-And he had done so to himself."

Shocked silence.

"I didn't take it into consideration until much later. I began to notice details in stories I had been told. Stories including Jekyll or Hyde would only include one or the other, never both. Strange, right? That a man's _close_ assistant had never before been seen with him, not even for a second."

Mutterings from the crowd. Lodgers asked other lodgers near them. Had they seen Jekyll and Hyde together?

Every time the answer was no. Nobody had seen it before.

Lanyon looked from lodger to lodger, every shake of the head, every spoken no setting the truth in stone.

"And when Hyde disappeared, seemingly impossible to find, Jekyll was fine. Then Jekyll disappeared and Hyde showed up. All of a sudden, Jekyll was nowhere to be seen, like he had vanished from the face of the earth."

For some inexplicable reason, his mind drifted to old memories.

A dance with Hyde. A waltz.

A waltz that someone like Hyde shouldn't know how to do.

A waltz that had felt so familiar, like one he had done with Henry long ago.

A waltz that Lanyon had taught him.

His breathing choked.

Hyde breaking down, Jekyll breaking down. He had even noted himself the similarities between them.

He had _dismissed_ them. He had _ignored_ the signs because he felt like he was replacing Jekyll with Hyde.

But he hadn't been. The entire time, he had been connecting it, connecting the truth the _entire time_ and he had refused to listen to his instincts.

A deep breath from Frankenstein.

"I'll admit my mistakes. What... What has happened to Jekyll is... Probably... Partially... My fault."

Her eyes landed somewhere in the crowd. Lanyon followed her gaze and his heart seemed to stop.

There he was, at the door, a mask hiding his expression. Blonde hair.

Hyde – No, Jekyll – Was stood right there.

"Dr Jekyll." She spoke gently. The room was so silent, though, that everyone could hear it. One by one, people turned to Hyde. "I'm... Sorry. I'm sorry that you felt like you had to run from everyone like this – to lie to everyone like this. But... This has to stop. This has to stop now. This has gone on too long. Please."

Lanyon took an unsteady step towards... His friend.

Hyde's head moved. Those black sockets flicked from person to person to person. Robert could see the shake in his legs, starting in a barely perceptible tremor but quickly becoming more violent.

"Jekyll." Frankenstein asked again, "I don't quite understand the exacts of your experiment but I'm sure you can hear me at the very least. Please come back."

"I-"

Hyde's voice. Muffled by the mask, faint, barely heard. If the room hadn't been so silent, no-one would have heard a thing.

"I... I-"

Abruptly, with a swish of his cape, he turned sharply and sprinted out the door as fast as he could, the mask not managing to hide the clear droplets of tears that struck the ground as he left.

"Henry!"

Robert took after him as fast as he could, the crowd parting to let him through.

The room was left in silence once the two of them left. Ito pushed her way through the crowd and scrabbled onto the stage.

"Can I please get your attention?" She called out. The lodgers reluctantly tore their eyes away from the door. "Dr Frankenstein was right." She shot Frankenstein a sharp look, "But it's more complicated than that. We... We didn't want to worry you with everything else going on but... Hyde doesn't remember Jekyll."

Frankenstein's face went pale.

"It's some sort of amnesia. I didn't learn about Jekyll being Hyde until recently but Hyde doesn't know at all." Her eyes lingered on the door where the pair had disappeared, "I hope he doesn't take the news too hard."

And as the society burst into clamour, Ito began to answer questions.

She hoped beyond hope that Lanyon could help Hyde.

She had a bad feeling about this.

  
  


_I was right._

Hyde's reflection taunted him from puddles and the reflections of mirrors.

_Frankenstein knew. She told. She wants to ruin me completely, to take away everything I have._

It rang in his head again and again, a clamouring of church bells that refused to stop no matter how much he plugged his ears. It reverberated in his bones, echoed in his skull, tolled in his brain again and again. 

_You're Dr Jekyll._ The wind sang tauntingly, _You're Dr Jekyll and there's nothing you can do about it. You can never escape who you are._

"I'm not!" Edward screamed to the wind, "Dr Jekyll is _dead!_ I'm _not_ Jekyll!"

It laughed at him even as his reflection wept. Tears of blood, tears of a truth he couldn't escape.

 _I'm going to be dragged back._ His reflection continued to chime, _They're going to drag me kicking and screaming back and they'll mock me. They'll call me mad or a coward or they'll tie me to a stake and burn me as a monster._

Laughter. Childish, hateful.

_No-one will ever look at me the same again. I'm just a monster to them. A lying rotten monster who makes everyone around me suffer no matter what I do._

"I'm not you!" Hyde yelled into the wind, "I'm _not you_ , I'm _Edward Hyde!"_

_Nothing I can do. No escaping who you are, I suppose._

Red feathers torn out.

_This is all I'll ever be._

"I'm not Henry Jekyll!"

_I'm not allowed to want things. I'm not allowed to act out or having feelings for another._

"My name is Edward Hyde!"

 _I can't ruin my reputation._ _Can’t do anything to risk it._

"I'm the son of Dr Henry Jekyll!"

 _If they knew, if they knew what I was then…_ _Then what would they_ _**do** _ _to me?_

"I was a damned bastard child from some prostitute. She ditched me and..." He faltered, hesitated, then continued with renewed determination, "And, when Dr Jekyll found out, he took me in."

No, of course this was the truth. This had always been the truth.

 _"I'm not Dr Jekyll!"_ He cried to the howling wind, not caring if his voice was lost, "I'm _not_ and I _never_ _will be!"_

His reflection watched him morosely.

"I'm not you." He glared it down, "Dr Jekyll is dead and he's never coming back. Never again."

It watched him for a little longer, face unreadable. Then he was staring at his own face again. Edward Hyde's face.

The thing was gone and his head was suddenly silent. His reflection was simply a reflection, his thoughts, his fears were just his own. There was nobody else there.

No voices, no laughter, no mockery.

Just silence.

Edward Hyde adjusted his mask on his face and, listening to distant bird song, turned and left.

A scattering of red feathers lay on the ground behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. That got too surrealist.


	16. Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lanyon confronts Jekyll.

Rachel knitted her fingers together nervously. Reactions to the news had differed from person to person. Some refused to believe it, some were angry at Jekyll for keeping this a secret, some were so swamped with guilt that they had holed up in their rooms, refusing to leave.

The most pessimistic were the worst though. It was the people who were crying that broke her heart. Somehow, people had managed to convince themselves that Jekyll wouldn't come back. Maybe he had left London completely now or maybe his memories would never return and Hyde was all that was left. There was no cure and there wouldn't even be a body to bury. Hyde was the corpse and they would just have to live with that knowledge.

Just as everyone had started to get over Jekyll's disappearance, just as people were starting to heal, the truth came in to tear open old wounds and she feared that, this time, they wouldn't recover.

Rachel wasn't sure how to feel.

She cared about Hyde, she cared about Jekyll – If she had been told the news under any other circumstances, she would have been fine to accept him, even help him if he needed it.

Now, however, she didn't know if she _could_ help.

She was angry, she supposed. If she just had the energy, she would slap Jekyll across the face, grab him by the collar and yell at him for being such a reckless idiot.

Except that anger took a second place to the crushing weight of anxiety at that moment.

She knew that the moment that Hyde walked through that door, she would probably slap him but, for the moment, it was just fear.

Jasper was being pretty quiet through all the news. It made sense, she supposed – He hadn't known Jekyll or Hyde for as long as everyone else so it was less of a shock for him. She wasn't even sure if he had spoken to Hyde one on one before.

"...So..." He tapped his fingers together nervously, "I assume by the reactions that nobody else knew about this either? This isn't just me being new here."

"No. It's not just you." She took a deep breath, failing to control her worry.

Jasper watched her carefully for several seconds.

"Why are you so upset?" He asked. She looked up at him and he went pale, hastily reiterating, "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that, it just feels like... Like you're caught up on this Jekyll is Hyde situation but I thought you cared about both of them so... Um..."

Rachel sighed. "It's just the fact that Jekyll was right under our noses the entire time and nobody figured it out." She groaned loudly and began to pace.

"Are you... Blaming yourself for not figuring it out sooner?"

"...I guess I am." She admitted, "I knew Jekyll _and_ Hyde better than anyone. Even Lanyon only really knew Jekyll so..."

"It's not like anyone else figured it out. It doesn't matter that you knew them better than anyone else, it doesn't seem like a particularly obvious solution to me." Jasper shifted, "...Unless this sort of thing is common around here? I haven't been here long enough but is this-?"

"No," She conceded, "It's not common."

"So to make that assumption..."

"-Would probably be conspiracy theorist talk." Rachel finished. Her chest still felt tight but hearing Jasper say these things loosened it just a bit. No, it wasn't her fault, he was right. She couldn't have known therefore she couldn't have changed things.

She was still worried about Jekyll and Hyde but the guilt had died back a bit.

Something occurred to her and she chuckled quietly, eliciting a bewildered look from Jasper.

"Look at us. It was just a few days ago that I was reassuring you that Jekyll's disappearance wasn't your fault. The shoe's on the other foot now, huh?"

Jasper smiled and the pair sat in silence for a little bit.

"...So do you think Jekyll has any other alter egos we don't know about or..?"

Rachel burst into laughter.

  
  


Lanyon’s feet pounded against the cobbles. His throat felt tight, it was difficult to breathe and he felt like he was going to throw up.

He had lost sight of Hyde a while ago so he had begun to run about from place to place sporadically, hoping – praying – to catch a glimpse of a black cape or the glint of a silver mask.

People passed by. He saw the flutter of black clothes, the shimmer of buttons but none of them were Hyde.

It wasn’t fair.

It was a childish thing to think but it wasn’t. It all felt like some big cosmic joke and Lanyon was sat at the centre of it.

There was something sickening about the idea that, the moment he put the pieces together, the moment that Jekyll, after so long, had been right there just to lose him again immediately.

If he had figured it out sooner, if he had been faster to catch Hyde, _if he had just been a better friend._

All these ifs and yet, instead, he was too late.

Something cold pooled in the corners of his eyes. Frustrated, he blinked it away.

Lanyon’s run slowed to a jog, then to a walk. He was panting, a painful stitch in one side. Finally, he stopped for a moment to catch his breath and think.

The sun was getting low in the sky and the crowded streets were starting to disperse. A bell tolled somewhere in the distance.

He had clearly completely lost Hyde. For a moment, the thick, broiling anxiety in his chest overwhelmed him, trying to take a deep breath to calm himself and instead gagging on air that, in that moment, also felt thick. The choking smog and dust didn’t help matters either, the strong impression of breathing sandpaper scraping through his airways.

Was there any chance that Hyde was still in the city or..?

He screwed his eyes shut and, ignoring how heavy the air felt in his lungs, forced down several deep breaths to calm himself.

Edward was still in the city. He had to be. He couldn’t hide forever.

Lanyon exhaled. A plume of white steam coiled from his lips. He blinked at it in almost a daze for a second before realizing it was because it was cold out – freezing in fact as the day turned to night.

He wasn’t certain how long he had been out there searching. Now that he had stopped, the throbbing in his feet and the chill air began to nip at him.

He had to go home.

Even if it was doubtful that Lanyon would find him after the sun went down, it took a lot of effort to turn himself around to head back. He still glanced down every alleyway, peering over his shoulder every time he heard someone behind him.

More deep breaths. Involuntarily, he thought about how many times he had helped Hyde to do the same. Breathing. It sounded so easy. He had never quite understood how Hyde could have struggled to breathe even as he helped.

Now, however, he understood.

Deep breaths. Just keep breathing.

He saw his house coming up and something twisted in him when it finally truly dawned on him that he hadn’t found Hyde.

He bit the inside of his cheek as hard as possible, the pain distracting, and slowly made his way to the door. His cold, numb fingers fumbled with the keys for several seconds before, with a quiet click, the door was unlocked.

He pushed it open and stared dejectedly at the dim light of the candles inside.

...Candles?

He had been out for most of the day, any candles he could have lit would have went out by now. So who had..?

Lanyon jolted into action, practically throwing himself inside, almost forgetting to close the door behind him. Still in his shoes, fully dressed in his outdoor clothes, he stumbled into the kitchen where the candlelight was coming from.

He stopped in the doorway with a strangled intake of breath.

A corner of a black cloak swayed lightly off the edge of the table. Orange and yellow light from the fire flickered and danced on the edges of the cloth, highlighting the man sat there.

A pair of eyes met Lanyon’s. They glowed gently with the reflection of firelight but, even against the orange gleam, Robert could clearly see that familiar forest green, the glimmer of golden hair that hung around those eyes, the childish, almost manic energy contained in that gaze.

Edward Hyde was right there, sat on his kitchen table, trying to set fire to some twig he had found outside using one of Lanyon's candles. As the pair of them stared at each other, Hyde with that guilty look of a cat that had been caught sneaking into the cat food and Lanyon gaping like a fish.

The twig burst into flames.

“...Hi Lanyon.”

Robert tried to say something but his throat felt too tight and, instead, a wheezing noise was emitted.

Edward averted his gaze and coughed awkwardly, the twig still burning in his hands.

“This… Isn’t what it looks like..?”

More silence.

“Look, I’m not trying to burn down your house.” Edward hastily explained, “See, I, uh, wanted to see what would happen if I set a stick on fire.”

A pause.

“...Honestly, I’m not sure what I expected.”

The fire burned down low enough to burn Hyde’s hand. He yelped and shook the stick, the fire thankfully spluttering out before it set fire to anything else. Edward made a couple of pained and angry little noises, staring at his burned finger before shoving it in his mouth, sucking on the burn with an annoyed expression.

He shifted his eyes uneasily to Lanyon who was still stood absolutely frozen in place and completely silent.

“...I get the feeling you’re angry.” He said around the finger in his mouth. 

There was the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the house, loud in the silence. Edward shifted, clearly getting nervous.

“Ok, fine, I’m sorry. Can you just say something? Please? You’re starting to creep me out.” He laughed nervously, “You planning on murdering me or what?”

“W-” Lanyon swallowed, finding speaking difficult. “Why are you here? _How_ are you here?!”

“...Why am I in the same place I was this morning? Did… Did you really expect me to sneak out that much? With the exhibition going on?” Edward’s brow furrowed, a little bewildered, “You’re acting like I stood on my head for an hour while juggling swords and survived. I _can_ be responsible, you know. Uh… Occasionally… Some… Times...” Edward met Robert’s incredulous gaze, “Ok, fine, maybe it is strange but I managed it.”

“B… But that’s exactly what you did...”

“...Juggling..?”

“No, sneaking out!” The shocked daze of unreality that Lanyon was feeling suddenly cleared with a sharp shake of his head and the entire situation clicked back into reality. “I chased you half-way across London! I’ve been searching for you all day and you were _here_ the entire time?!”

“Chasing me across London? But I’ve been here the entire time.” Edward pursed his lips thoughtfully, kicking his legs back and forth on the table with a childish air. “...Are you sure you saw me?”

“Yes!”

“Ok, no need to yell. Give me a break, I just burned my finger here.” He removed his finger from his mouth with a gross pop and peered at it for a second before shoving it back in. He chewed thoughtfully on the finger to Lanyon’s disgust.

“So… Is this another one of those ‘Edward lost a chunk of memory’ moments?”

“I… Uh...” Lanyon felt something heavy settle in his gut as Hyde’s words properly hit him. Hyde didn’t remember the exhibition. He didn’t remember what Frankenstein had said. He still didn’t know that he was Henry. “...Seems… Seems like it...”

“Damn. And there I was thinking I got all my memories back.”

“Wait, what do you mean _you thought you got your memories back?!”_

Hyde grinned and puffed himself up, “I remember my past – I remember where I came from!”

For the second time in the space of just a few seconds, Lanyon was struck speechless for a long time. Then he exploded.

"You do?! Everything?!"

"Uh-huh!" Edward nodded, looking proud of himself. He raised a finger and, in just a few words, Lanyon's hopes shattered like glass, "Rachel was right, Jekyll was my dad."

The chill of the night air once again fell over Lanyon.

"It was an affair," Hyde continued, not seeming to notice, "Jekyll left me in the care of my mother but she didn't want me so she ditched me. Just two years ago, Jekyll found out about it and was horrified. He took me in immediately. Oh! _And_ Jekyll was the one hiding me from the police. I was being kept in this old lab of his in his home."

"...Do... Do you _genuinely_ remember that happening?"

Edward scowled, "Of course I do, what kind of question is that?"

"...And what happened to Jekyll?"

"Not a clue. It wasn't like he ever told me anything about his experiments, I just watched them."

Lanyon faintly remembered his speech to Jekyll in Jekyll's office when Hyde had heard him. Hyde hadn't just forgotten what had happened, he had misremembered things. For whatever reason, Edward was twisting his own memories to fit what he had been told.

This, however, was the most extreme case yet.

"Is everything ok with you?" Edward crossed his legs, "You're acting really weird. Exhibition not go well?"

"It... went fine." Lanyon swallowed, "...Why did you show up?"

"Show up where?"

"The exhibition."

“Look, I don’t remember that part so how about you just explain to me whatever happened and we can both move on.”

"You went to the exhibition today. You were there when Frankenstein revealed everything about you."

"Ah," Hyde winced sympathetically, "Well, so long as Jekyll isn't here, it probably won't ruin his reputation, right?"

"Won't ruin his-?" Something had been building in Lanyon's chest throughout his entire search for Edward and had continued to build throughout the conversation. This something burst out of him now, a frustration turned to boiling hot rage. _"You are_ **not** _Jekyll's son!"_

Hyde flinched, his eyes widening fearfully. Lanyon's yell rang out. He wasn't done yet though.

"Listen up, you delusional twit. You. _Are._ Henry. _Bloody._ Jekyll." All he could see was red. All he could think of was all the time he and Hyde had spent together. All that time. All that damned time and Jekyll hadn't even gotten a glimmer of his memories back. Had that really just been the potion at work? Or had Jekyll just refused? "Do you really think you can just hide yourself away from the world like this?! Just pretending that you're not Jekyll? That things haven't gone wrong in your life?!" He was screaming and Hyde had gone completely pale. "Do you think you were the only one hurting?! The rest of us don't run when things get too hard and we certainly don't let our friends think, for even a second, that we're _dead!"_

"O...Ok..." Hyde's voice was uncharacteristically concerned, "Lanyon... I think you need to take a break. Clearly what happened to Jekyll has really gotten to you and-"

Robert strode forward and gripped Hyde by the shoulders with a yelp from the shorter man, forcing him to look him in the eye.

"Henry, I know you can hear me. I don't quite understand what you've done or why but I know you're in there. Snap. Out. Of. It."

A moment of long silence.

Then something dark crossed Edward's face.

When he spoke, his voice was dangerously low. "I'm not Dr Jekyll. You want a delusional twit? Take a good look in a mirror sometime." He grabbed Lanyon's hands and yanked them off, tightening his grip hard enough to cause pain. "Jekyll is gone and he's not coming back. Just accept that."

Lanyon's face was flushed with rage, his overwhelming hatred for Hyde flooding out the pain in his hand.

"Not coming back?!" Robert twisted his hand out of Hyde's grip, "So that's it?! You're just going to live in denial for the rest of your stupid _fucking_ life?!"

Edward flinched at the uncharacteristic swearing and his anger flitted back to uncertainty.

"You know what?" Edward took a deep breath, clearly trying not to let his voice shake, "You're clearly in a bad mood so I'm just going to remove myself from this conversation."

He turned to leave but Lanyon was already grabbing his arm and yanking him back.

Their eyes met. They were so close to one another and yet, somehow, Lanyon felt further from his friend than he ever had before.

"Look, Robert. You have to learn to let go." Edward spoke quietly, his voice devoid of its usual mockery and childishness. It twisted Lanyon's heart to realize that, with that tone of voice, Edward sounded eerily like Henry. Even though he knew now that Jekyll and Hyde were the same, hearing Jekyll's voice coming from Hyde sent a shiver down his spine. It felt so wrong but it confirmed everything. "I get it, you're upset because your friend is gone and you don't have any answers but," Edward – No, Henry – looked him in the eye. Maybe it was a trick of the light but he could swear that his eyes looked almost red. "But deluding yourself like this isn't going to bring him back. I'm not Henry Jekyll. I never have been. I never will be."

Hyde's words just caused another flush of anger. Lanyon's teeth ground together.

Ok, deep breaths. He wasn't going to get anywhere like this. He had to think.

"Tell me everything I told you about Jekyll." Robert's voice was surprisingly steady. He kept his eyes locked on Edward's, daring him to back down.

"I told you already, I got all my memories back, I don't need-"

"Then you won't have any trouble with it, will you?"

A long silence.

"Fine. Let's see. Henry was the founder of the society. The pair of you met in university. He was Scottish. Anything else you want me to note?"

"What was my relationship to him?"

"Your relationship? I don't know and I don't really care."

"I've told you about this already."

"You care about him, what else is there to say about it?"

"I was there for you." Lanyon could hear how broken his own voice sounded. It was a distant noise and spoken with barely a thought to what he was saying. "Henry, I always wanted to help, believe me, I did. I could see everything that was happening to you the entire time but I couldn't do a thing about it. You just kept locking me out, keeping quiet and lying to me." His vision was wavering as something wet ran down his cheeks. The taste of salt met his lips. "I didn't even know what the problem was. Do you know what that's like? Watching your own friend break in front of your eyes and not being able to do a thing to help? It's like a theatre production. You can see the actors and stage and you can see that things are going downhill but you're not a part of it. You can't influence the events before you. Except it's not actors – It's a close friend – and you should be able to do something and yet you can't. We've been living in a bloody tragedy for weeks and I don't know how to change things."

Edward had opened and closed his mouth several times throughout Lanyon's speech, clearly trying to get a response but never knowing what to say.

"And I still can't do a thing, even now, even when I know the answer."

Silence fell between them.

"You know what? Forget it." Lanyon shook his head, "I'm just basing all of this off what Frankenstein said, it's not like I have any real proof."

He turned sharply and left. Hyde just stared after him.

  
  


Edward wasn't sure what to think of Lanyon's strange breakdown. It seemed to have come out of completely nowhere and it left Hyde feeling weirdly responsible for it. Not guilty, of course – he was evil itself, after all, he didn't feel guilt for others.

Although he wasn't quite sure _how_ he was evil itself. He wasn't quite sure where that had come from just that it was true.

He gritted his teeth and snarled slightly. There was a strange ache in his chest. Not guilt. It _wasn't_ guilt.

So Lanyon went crazy, what of it? It didn't matter to him.

Well... He was living in Lanyon's house. It did... Kind of matter.

So... So maybe he _should_ talk to Lanyon. Not out of any care, of course, simply the selfish desire to protect himself. Yes, that sounded right. He needed Lanyon in the best mental health so he should... Help?

The problem was that Edward wasn't really one for emotional comfort. How on Earth was he supposed to help?

Lanyon seemed like an emotional mess and Hyde was an awful cleaner.

He tutted and ran his eyes across the room, clicking his tongue as he searched for a solution.

His eyes settled on that photo again. Henry and Lanyon together when they were younger.

There was a certain amount of fondness in the way that Lanyon was sat just a little too close to Jekyll for the photo. There was also so much fondness in the way that Lanyon spoke about Jekyll. There was that slight smile that settled across his face when he spoke of his old friend.

Edward's chest tightened and he tore his eyes away from the photo again.

_...I wanted to give him something, didn't I?_

He frowned. That was right, he had something for Lanyon. He patted his pockets as he tried to recall what it had been. His fingers caught on the thin edge of a paper and he drew out a note. It was crumpled from being in his pocket and the ink was smudged.

He frowned at the writing for a second. Why had _this_ been important?

He pursed his lips and slipped it back into his pocket. With that, he scampered off in the direction that Lanyon had left.

  
  


Lanyon's face was hot. He was an idiot, an absolute idiot. What was he doing?! He was just chasing after some wild theory of Frankenstein's and he had probably ruined his relationship with Hyde in the process. What proof was there? So Jekyll and Hyde had never been seen in the same room before – Easily explained. If Hyde was some bastard child of Jekyll's, he wouldn't want to be seen with Hyde as much as possible. It would just give more opportunity for the truth to slip through in some shared feature of the face or a slip of the tongue.

The waltz? Well Jekyll could have taught him that.

The similarities between Jekyll and Hyde? They were related.

Lanyon cursed himself for getting so worked up. Maybe Hyde was right, maybe Jekyll was never coming back and he was just grasping at straws because he knew that Jekyll was probably already dead or too far to be found again.

Jekyll was an upstanding gentleman, Edward Hyde struggled to sit still for more than a few seconds. How could they ever be the same?

Pictures came unbidden to his mind: Jekyll struggling to sit still as Lanyon taught him how to be a gentleman. Jekyll's strange and crazed talks about science. His admiration of monsters. All things that went against Jekyll's perfect image but sat perfectly in Hyde.

He shook his head. No, he was not going back in there and distressing Hyde any more.

He turned and was startled to find himself staring eye-to-eye with Hyde.

The shorter man was stood on the table for extra height, something Lanyon hadn't heard him doing while deep in thought.

He almost instinctively told Hyde off for standing on the furniture but the bite of embarrassment stopped him.

Instead, he said, "I'm sorry. I got worked up. The exhibition went on for ages and I-"

"-Yeah, yeah, I have something for you." Edward flourished a paper and waved it in Lanyon's face.

Lanyon tried to snatch at it. Edward danced it out of the way with a mischievous grin.

"I can't read it if you keep moving it like that."

Hyde's grin widened but he let Lanyon take the paper.

"It's good to see you're not upset." Lanyon grumbled, not knowing why he had been so worried, "What's this?"

"I found it in my pocket. I wanted to show it to you in case it was important."

"It's probably just spa-" Lanyon's eyes drifted to the paper and his breath caught in his throat. His words choked and died.

"I know it's probably nothing but, look... I have to live in a house with you so I needed an excuse to talk to you. I can't let you go crazy – You might turn me into the peelers in some fit of madness and I’m not letting you..." Edward finally saw Lanyon's face and his own words trailed off. "...You look pale."

"...Edward... Where did you find this..?"

"Your office, why?"

Lanyon choked back a sob. He recognized the handwriting. It was the same one used on the many piles of paperwork in Jekyll's office.

_I'm right here._

There it was, written again and again. It was a desperate cry – Not for help, just to let someone know that the writer was alive. That they were ok.

"...Jekyll..."

"You're mumbling, what was that?"

"It's... It's Jekyll's... Jekyll's handwriting..." Lanyon's bottom lip trembled and he struggled against the swell of tears growing in his eyes. "...Jekyll's alive..."

"Excuse me?!" Edward stared wide-eyed at the note with renewed interest.

"...In the office... He was here. He was in the house."

"That's impossible." Hyde said quietly, "I was here the entire time and I didn't hear or see a thing."

_But if Hyde was Jekyll..._

Lanyon shook off the thought. He wasn't getting into that argument again.

Except, the thought clung to him like cobwebs. Was it stupid? Was it just desperation? Most likely but...

What if there was another way to get Jekyll back? A subtler way?

He didn't have to get into another screaming match with Edward if...

"Edward... Could you tell me more about your mother?"

"Well I don't remember her much, she ditched me, remember?"

"Well what _do_ you remember?"

Edward scratched his head thoughtfully.

"Well... She was blonde. Curly hair. I... I think her eyes were green... Why do you care anyway?"

"Are you sure you're describing your own mother there? That sounds suspiciously like Jekyll's."

"As I said, I don't really remember her." Hyde grumbled, "Why do you care?"

Ok, delivery was everything here. Robert took a breath. He was a pretty decent actor but this was a lot more than just falsely complimenting a lady on her stupidly long dress. He just needed to nudge Jekyll a bit.

"...I... Well..." He gave Edward a furtive glance. Too much? Too _little?_ Ok, ok. He was overthinking this. Just go for it. "...I suppose... I suppose if Jekyll's never coming back, it doesn't matter, does it?" He laughed half-heartedly and the sardonic tone in that laugh was barely faked at all, "And it's not like you can tell anyone – You're still hiding from the police."

Hyde raised an eyebrow.

"...Truth be told, I..." His words genuinely choked. He bit back tears and continued, "...I loved him."

Edward froze.

"I just wanted to know what sort of woman he picked." God, why was it so difficult to breathe? Where had all the air gone? "We kind of had an affair for a while but... I'm married so..." A strangled breath. That's too much acting. Dial it back a bit.

But he couldn't. His cheeks were wet and he dimly realized that he was crying again. But he couldn't be. It was just an act. It was all an act. He wasn't the sort to have feelings.

Sure, he _cared_ about Jekyll. And his eyes like a sunset. And his smile. And his laugh and his funny little talks about monsters. And his enthusiasm and…

...And...

"...And I still love him." Robert realized.

Lanyon had never said it aloud before. If anyone asked, even Jekyll, they were just business partners. He only cared about Jekyll's health to prevent Jekyll making him a laughing stock, that was what he always told people.

There was something strange about hearing those words uttered aloud. He had always known it was the truth, it was just a truth he would never say. Although, maybe on some level he lied to himself as well, crushed those feelings down, ignored them and despised them.

Now, for the first time, he was hearing it and his heart fluttered in a strange way.

His eyes dropped back to the paper.

_I'm right here._

Jekyll wanted him to know he was alright. Even if he had hidden himself away, lied to himself and did all he could to get away from his own life, Jekyll had still tried to get the message out. It was a final goodbye. Had it been difficult to do?

Maybe it had been easy but Lanyon's heart beat faster at the thought of Henry struggling to write that note, of Henry doing all he could just to reassure Robert that he was still alive, that he was ok.

A choked breath and the tears became faster, larger. He clutched the note in his hands, the rest of the world forgotten in the blurred haze of tears. They stained the paper, ink spreading in watery puddles across the paper. Maybe Jekyll wouldn't come back. He was grasping at straws and Jekyll was gone for good.

Then his breaths became sobs and his legs seemed to give out from under him. He was on his knees and he couldn't breathe. There was a lump in his throat and he couldn't see through the watery fog over his own vision. He was barely aware of the floor or the room.

He was drowning. What was he _doing?_ If Henry hadn’t shown himself before, why would he show himself now? What could he possibly do to change things that he hadn’t already tried?

Henry was gone, he was dead and there was nothing Lanyon could do because it was too late. Because he hadn’t done things in time, because he hadn’t figured things out in time or treated the situation in the right manner. Because Jekyll was now gone and he was never getting him back.

A hand touched his shoulder.

Robert was barely aware of it. Then he heard that voice and everything clicked back into place.

"Breathe."

A soft voice.

Soothing.

Familiar.

He looked up through a haze of tears and saw a silhouette.

It was distorted by the water, fluctuating and melting, but he knew that shape, that voice.

He could barely breathe but he managed out a name.

"Henry..."

Red eyes, concerned and watching him closely.

The figure slowly knelt before him. "Follow my breathing, ok? In. Out. In. Out."

The voice was trying to stay calm but he could hear the light shudder in those words, the strain of one trying to keep their emotions under control.

Lanyon breathed with him.

In...

Out...

In...

Out...

The world slowly but surely came back to focus. The watery distortion lessened and faded. Slowly but surely, he saw blonde hair, a shorter figure.

The distortion faded, changing Jekyll to Hyde.

For a second, his heart sank – Of course, it had just been a figment of his imagination.

Then he saw the eyes.

Red.

Soft.

His breaths nearly choked again. Henry smiled at him.

"H...Henry..?"

"Not for long." It was Henry's voice, his deeper, more soothing tones. A sob from Lanyon. "I'm so sorry Robert. I should never have done this."

"Don't apologize." Robert choked out between sobs, voice hoarse from crying, "It was my fault. I should have figured it out sooner."

"Well." Jekyll chuckled slightly, "It was in my best interests to keep you from finding out."

"But it shouldn't have been like that!" Robert protested, "I shouldn't have ever made you feel like you couldn't tell me. If I had been a better friend, you would have felt safe to tell me everything!"

Henry flinched at those words.

"Robert, please don't say that. It was _because_ I cared so much about your opinion that..." Henry's steady demeanour cracked slightly and tears began to pool in the corners of his eyes, "I didn't want to ruin that. I didn't want you to think ill of me, to think of me as some kind of monster, to-"

Robert's arms were already around Henry in a tight embrace. Henry's protests cut off and, after a sob of his own, he threw his own arms around Robert. They clutched each other with the desperation of the dying.

Henry’s arms were so tight around him that they hurt but Robert knew that his own embrace was just as tight. He knew that neither of them could bare to lessen their hold knowing that the other could slip from their grasp at any moment. This could be the last time they ever held each other and they both wanted to make it count.

Robert was sobbing into Henry – he was ruining Hyde’s clothes but he didn’t care – couldn’t care. The hiccuping noises and shudders from Henry told him that his friend was doing the same.

"...I can't..." Henry whimpered quietly into Robert's ear, his voice barely audible, "I can't hold onto myself much longer..."

"How do I help?" Robert asked back, chest tightening.

"...An... An antidote..." Henry murmured, his voice starting to become more dazed sounding, more confused, "There was... An antidote... Wasn't there..?"

"Tell me." Robert tried to keep the desperate hope out of his voice, arms still tight around his friend. He could hold onto Henry physically but there was nothing he could do to keep his friend's mind slipping and the thought caused his chest to tighten even further.

"...Paper..."

Robert hurriedly tore a sheet from a nearby letter, not caring what was on it. He snatched up a pen and thrust them both into Jekyll's hands.

The doctor was swaying dizzily and he wrote messily. He paused several times, looking confused, before remembering what he was doing and continuing.

Robert’s heart was racing. He wanted to yell at Henry to speed up, knowing from the increasingly bewildered look in Jekyll’s eye that he was losing his grip on himself. He could already picture how much it would hurt if the instructions were left unfinished. To see Jekyll slip halfway through writing and to be left with nothing. To get so close.

Every time Jekyll hesitated, his heart skipped a beat. Every time he thought he saw a glint of green in those eyes, his heart leapt to his throat and he wanted to cry out.

But Jekyll continued. He just kept writing.

It seemed to go on for an eternity, Robert fidgeting nervously and pacing.

Then Henry stopped and, with a leap of hope, Lanyon realized he had finished.

Finally there was a list of ingredients and an unclear list of instructions.

Finally, there was a _cure._

Henry looked at Robert with foggy eyes and smiled uncertainly.

"...I'm sorry... Robert..."

Then he blinked.

It wasn't a dramatic collapse or swoon. There was no drama to the switch at all.

His eyes simply closed and, when they reopened again, they were green. He was, all of a sudden, no longer swaying and his eyes were focused. It was like nothing had happened at all.

Edward blinked a few more times, gathering himself. Then he saw Lanyon and stared up at him for an uncomfortable amount of time. His expression, his thoughts, were unreadable.

Lanyon swallowed and stood up, brushing himself off. He bit off his emotional moment, refusing to think about it. This wasn’t the time for letting his emotions get in the way. He had the instructions for the antidote and nothing else mattered.

He avoided Hyde's weird stare.

The shorter man wouldn’t stop staring and it was getting creepy. Lanyon wanted to ignore it, he really did. He knew that it would hurt too much to speak to Hyde after seeing Jekyll just a few seconds ago.

"...I... I remember..." Edward said at last.

"Yeah, I get it, you said." Lanyon kept the tremble out of his voice as best as he could. His eyes skittered over the paper, trying to make sense of Jekyll's crazed ramblings.

It helped if he put himself into his old mind-set, from before he knew that Hyde was Jekyll. It helped the pain to pretend that Edward was just Edward.

"No, I _actually_ remember." Edward insisted, "It's... It's weirdly... Hazy but..."

Lanyon slowly turned to look at him.

"That was actually him, wasn't it? That _was_ Jekyll just now. I didn't just..." Edward threw his arms up, looking for the words frustratedly, "-Completely lose it."

"...Don't play with my feelings like that."

"I'm not- Give that here." Edward snatched up the paper and tutted, "I'm betting you can't understand this, right?"

"Well I'm sure if I gave it to Ito or one of the lodgers-"

"Nope. This is a freakin' mess. They wouldn't be able to understand it."

"But-"

"But I can.” Edward looked him straight in the eye with unwavering seriousness, “For now at least."

Robert wasn't sure how to respond to that. He just stood there, dumbfounded.

"We need to go back to the society. Now."

Edward began throwing on his cape. He hesitated slightly, glancing back at the still frozen Lanyon.

"Did you mean what you said?" Edward asked unexpectedly.

"W... What?"

"About... Loving Henry."

Robert swallowed. "Yes." He smiled slightly. "I love him... I guess I love _you_..? I don't really get how this works."

"Nobody does, now stop standing around like a bowling pin! Chop, chop! Time's a wasting!"

Robert, overwhelmed, followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's worth noting that Lanyon wasn't there for Ito's reveal so he has every reason to doubt Frankenstein's theory.
> 
> While I'm here, this chapter was kind of the original one-shot this story was supposed to be. It had to be completely changed up because obviously the contextual stuff changed (Also, the original was never completed, it was a hella short beginning bit) but I kind of missed some lines from the old plot so I'm putting it here.
> 
> "It was strange, now that he knew the truth, there was so much about Hyde that was so close to Jekyll. Not his appearance, obviously, but they both had the same smile, the same determined look in their eyes, the same enthusiasm. Most of these things were details he hadn't seen in Jekyll for a while since his mental health had started to plumet which only made it hurt more to see it in Hyde.  
> Hyde felt like a mockery of his friend - A funhouse mirror's reflection brought to life. Something so close to correct but twisted into something near unrecognizable, features warped and emphasised."
> 
> I was told in Creative writing to kill your babies (Get rid of lines you're fond of if they don't work) but I'm a very sentimental person. I hold on to old scenes until my dying breath. I had a scene that was supposed to happen in chapter 9 where Jekyll died off from Edward's mind but then I wanted the scene where he seized control of Edward's body and tried to find Lanyon. I held on to the draft of that scene up until chapter 15 and still debated keeping it.
> 
> Also, "I know you're in there somewhere" is a great trope and I love it to bits but damn is it difficult to write outside of a fight scene or some otherwise high-stakes scene. I can see now why people don't do it more often.  
> I have to ask if the love confession feels too forced. I found it too difficult to do it any other way but I'm hoping that I had enough small scenes of Lanyon caring for Jekyll that it doesn't feel out of nowhere. 
> 
> Romance has never been my strong suit.


	17. Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Jekyll finally wakes up.

If you were to ask Henry Jekyll about the first time he messed up the composition of the transformation potion, his response would be vague.

His very first potion was wonky for better use of the word. It was, after all, the very first prototype and a potion like that couldn't be perfected in just one go. It worked, sure, but the effects were temporary. It had lasted a decent amount of time but that wasn't what Jekyll wanted. He wanted security, to know that it wouldn't just wear off, potentially in a bad situation or, worse, in front of someone else.

This was precisely what pushed him to alter the potion.

He changed up the volume of different chemicals in the potion, looking for the right changes. Certain herbs made Hyde shorter (He had to quickly change those back to the normal composition after the screaming fit from Hyde), certain liquids made Hyde more aggressive (Also had to be quickly changed back).

Then he changed the volume of salt.

The effects weren't obvious at first. He turned into Hyde as usual and any other effects were placebo from that point onwards. With every one of Hyde's actions, Jekyll had to question if they were in his usual character.

Was he of a shorter temper? Had his hair always been that shade of blonde? Was his voice slightly off?

Then it came the point where the potion would have usually worn off. It passed without incident and Jekyll knew he had hit the nail on the head.

Bullseye.

It wore off a little later than usual but Jekyll now knew that the volume of salt was the deciding factor in how long the potion lasted. So he messed about with it.

He wasn't completely lacking in common sense – He adjusted it in small amounts each time, monitoring how much longer it lasted and keeping an eye out for side effects.

When it didn't seem to wear off at all – only undone by the antidote – the smart decision would have been to stop.

On the other hand, the more scientific part of Dr Jekyll's mind demanded that he push further, to see what would happen.

He added just a little more.

He awoke from the transformation as Hyde feeling strangely foggier than usual. He would have noted that as strange if he hadn't completely forgotten that he had messed with the potion to start with.

So Hyde went out, he messed around, he changed back.

Jekyll should have stopped there – He should have looked at the instance with concern: the notes he only vaguely remembered writing, the actions of Hyde that seemed hazy in his own mind.

He should have, but he didn't.

As said before, the events of the incident were a haze to Jekyll.

He remembered darting from rooftop to rooftop, having fun like he usually did when he turned into Hyde but, this time, there was a sense of something else under the surface. He felt like he was missing something. Keys? His clothes? No, he wasn't naked and his keys were there as always.

It must just be in his head, he decided, but the feeling remained.

It followed him from place to place, always at the back of his mind and compelling him to check his pockets time and time again for the mystery item he had forgotten. It was frustrating to say the least.

It wasn't until the sun began to rise that he truly realised that something was off.

He paused for a second to watch the warm hues of the sun rising above the smoke and smog of London, the shadows skittering away like mice to make way for the day.

Well, he decided, it was time to go back.

He turned, paused, hesitated in complete bewilderment.

Go back where?

He had a home in Soho but he knew that wasn't where he lived. He hadn't bothered to furnish it or anything, it was simply a cover for his nightly activities.

...Where _did_ he go when the sun came up?

It didn't feel like something he would just forget, and yet there seemed to be an empty hole in his head where the memory should be.

There was no horror to the realization, just a numb confusion. The shock of finding such a large gap in his own memories numbed out any terror he could have felt.

He bit his lip and thought.

The memory hit him like the hind hooves of a panicked horse.

He was Henry Jekyll! He was supposed to be Henry Jekyll right at that moment!

Christ, how had he just forgotten that?!

With the realization finally came a heavy unease. He tried to reason off the incident as a case of too much alcohol and he made his way back home.

Memories got hazy but Jekyll knew he had gotten distracted by something and forgotten what he was doing.

Most of that day had been a back and forth. He would start heading home to change back only to forget what he was doing and wander off again. It was like trying to drag a horse back into a stable when it kept slipping the reigns. He got closer with each attempt but it was still an infuriatingly slow process. Each time he forgot, the unease grew, turning from nervous to paranoid and then to terrified. Each time he turned to head back home, he was faster, more urgent, scared of losing his memories again before he got back.

By the time he finally made it back, he was sprinting like hell itself was baying at his heels. He fumbled with the potion, almost spilling it several times before drinking as quickly as possible, a large portion of it missing his mouth entirely and splattering the floor in his haste.

Jekyll changed back, gasping, white from fear. He couldn’t move for a long time, curled into a ball on the floor, waiting fearfully for his memories to fade again. It took a very long time before he finally convinced himself that his memories weren’t going anywhere and he should get up.

He knew one thing for certain, he was never _ever_ doing that again.

He had stumbled from his lab to the kitchen to grab something to calm his nerves and promptly gotten yelled at by a petrified Rachel who had been terrified for him after he hadn’t come back that morning. He hadn’t been gone long enough to warrant any real search but he had been gone for nearly a whole day which was highly out of character for him.

Lanyon had questioned him non-stop but Jekyll had managed to slip his way out of the conversation, refusing to talk, or even to _think_ about what had transpired.

Over time, the event, the fear that he felt over it, faded into distant memory.

  
  


Edward Hyde shook off the memory. The moon was still high above as he and Robert made their way back to the society.

It was a clear night, Edward noted. Not a cloud to be seen. There even seemed to be less smoke than usual that night because he could see the moon with perfect clarity even from the ground.

Lanyon's face was unreadable as he trailed along behind. His expression was masked by the long shadows but the outline of his face was still visible.

It was strange. Edward's memories didn't quite feel like his. They were these distant shadows of someone else's life that flitted in the back of his mind.

He remembered Lanyon's face though. It simultaneously made Robert familiar and a complete stranger in his mind, like the itch of deja-vu. Edward knew, staring at that face, that he would be able to tell if even a single freckle was out of place.

Only the day before, Robert would have complained at Hyde for staring at his face so much but, as it was, the man – His friend? Boyfriend? Ex? – allowed him to do so, examining Edward's face with an equal measure of curiosity. Edward knew that Lanyon was mapping his face against Henry's, drawing connections between similar details in appearance.

Neither of them really knew what to say.

"...Doesn't... Doesn't it upset you?" Edward spoke before he even knew what he was saying. Robert gave him a bewildered look and Hyde continued. "I'm not exactly the perfect gentleman you wanted me to be. Heck, I'm pretty sure you hated me... Uh, you hated Hyde, I mean."

A long moment of consideration from Lanyon that put Hyde on edge.

"I think... I think if I had learnt all of this before you lost your memories, I would have been upset."

"But not now?" Edward asked quietly, uncertain why his heart felt so tight in his chest.

"Now I've been forced to get to know you." Lanyon sighed and tilted his head to look up at the moon. Silvery light caught his face, picking out his many freckles. And, Hyde noted, his massive nose. "And I guess I don't hate you as much anymore."

"You _guess?!"_

"I'm on the bench."

"What happened to 'I love you'?"

Lanyon shrugged but the moonlight clearly depicted the poorly suppressed smirk on his face. "I'm not really sure how romance works for alter egos."

"Threesome." Edward replied.

"I don't think we can get all three of us in a bedroom at once. Besides, I cut off my relationship with Henry for a reason. I'm married, remember?"

"She wouldn't care."

"No, probably not but-"

Lanyon cut off. There was a familiar looming shape ahead, blotting out the moonlight. The society was lit up, every window filled with light and shapes moving restlessly within.

Clearly, nobody had gone to sleep that night.

"I suppose that's another reason to move quickly." Robert muttered.

"Hm?"

"Your little escape earlier probably terrified the hell out of all of them."

"What escape?"

Robert sighed, "Let's just get in and get you back to normal."

He half jogged towards the society, forcing Hyde to scamper after.

  
  


The lodgers were all in different states of nervousness when Edward and Robert returned. Some were pacing, others were chatting nervously or fiddling. A couple were working on contraptions.

When the pair entered, everyone leapt to their feet and began to crowd around. Edward wanted to cringe back, to hide behind Lanyon and make him take the crowd. However, Edward didn’t do that. He forced himself to stand there as the crowd grew around him.

"Henry?"

Rachel was the first to speak.

She pushed her way through the crowd to the front and stood there, staring at Edward Hyde. She reached out a trembling hand, hesitant, as though the slightest touch could crumble her friend to dust.

Edward allowed her to nervously touch his clothes. Her fingers drifted over his clothes for a second, a light touch, making certain he was real. Then she sobbed and threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around him. It was highly embarrassing for the spirit of the night but Edward couldn't find it within himself to resist. He simply wrapped his own arms around Rachel and soothed into her ear.

"It's ok. I'm here now." He whispered, letting her cry. He patted her back reassuringly. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he wasn’t really quite Doctor Jekyll yet.

Then his eyes caught on someone else. Someone with blonde hair and a pale, rather sickly face.

His heart skipped a beat.

Frankenstein didn't look _that_ much better than she had before but she was clearly making some sort of improvement.

She couldn't meet his eyes, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. There was still the mild irrational fear, whispering and chittering worriedly in his head.

Things had changed though.

Maybe it was having his memories back, having a face and an excuse for these fears that quietened them. Maybe it was knowing that his secret was out and there was nothing more that Frankenstein could do.

Or maybe it was simply looking at that face and finally realizing that Frankenstein wasn’t planning on hurting him.

Perhaps it was a mix of all of them.

Finally, Rachel let him go. Edward stepped back, his eyes fixed on Frankenstein. A familiar bubbling of worry churned in his stomach.

"Henry." Frankenstein spoke softly, still not looking up. "I'm sorry."

It was so strange to hear those words. It was completely different from the Frankenstein he knew and stunned Edward for several long seconds. While he was stunned, she continued.

"I didn't know about your amnesia. I thought you were pretending to be Hyde out of some sort of denial and I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

"You do that a lot." Lanyon snipped.

They both ignored Lanyon.

"I should have spoken to you about this face to face.” She hesitated and then, with a little more classic Frankenstein gusto, “In all fairness, I knew you wouldn't let me see you and nobody told me you had amnesia to begin with so I didn’t have any reason to think-" Frankenstein finally met his eyes and she stuttered to an awkward halt, realizing that the actual apology was getting away. "Anyway, I'm sorry. For everything."

"In all fairness, you were kind of right." Edward shrugged dismissively. "About the denial thing, I mean."

Frankenstein didn't say another word.

A little more of Edward’s worries seemed to fade away and he wasn’t even sure why he had been so afraid of Frankenstein before.

The lodgers clamoured to speak. People wanted to know if he was alright, if Henry Jekyll was coming back, whether Hyde really WAS Jekyll or not. He was embarrassed at the attention but there was also a strange light feeling in his heart.

One voice, however, cut through the crowd and the lodgers fell to silence to let her speak.

"The antidote?" Ito asked, questing, "Do you... Remember it..?"

"Vaguely. I'll have to work quickly though. My thoughts feel like a barrel full of live, wet fish and I'm not sure how much longer I can hold onto them for."

"Then we should work quickly." Rachel sniffed, wiping her eyes and straightening herself, "What about the ingredients?"

"Rest assured, I have everything I need." Edward grinned at her. "Let's get Jekyll back."

With that, he swept out, the lodgers following along behind.

  
  


The potion trembled slightly in Hyde's hands. His eyes were locked on the faint, pulsing glow of the green fluid, unmoving. He was doing his best to keep his anxiety off his face, keeping a shaky mask of confidence.

The lodgers were crowded by the door, jostling with each other for a better view. The only people actually in the room were Lanyon, Rachel, Ito and Frankenstein.

Everyone's eyes were on him, a concoction of fear, anxiety, excitement, hope, doubt and sympathy. He hated the feeling of everyone watching him in such a vulnerable moment. It felt like a private moment, one he should be doing alone.

And _yet._

And yet there was something about having them there.

There was something about meeting the eye of someone in the crowd and seeing them smile in an encouraging way or give him a thumbs up. There was something nice at seeing all of them there and knowing that they would be there for him.

But would that change if Jekyll didn't come back? What if this didn't work?

How quickly would they turn on him if he drank that potion and nothing happened? What if Jekyll was already dead?

His eyes caught Lanyon's. The man – no, his best friend – was holding his breath, stiff with worry. Edward knew in his heart that Lanyon was suffering similar worries.

He looked back at the green fluid and, fingers shaking, uncorked it. Swirls of green smoke drifted lazily from the bottle.

It... It didn't look drinkable.

Edward looked nervously up at Rachel. She smiled at him, a shaky smile but, hey, she was trying at least. He was pretty sure his own expression wasn’t much better.

"Go on." She said quietly, "It'll be ok."

Edward took a deep breath. He lifted the glass and hesitated.

He drank.

It burned down his throat. It stung like he had bitten into a pineapple, the pain moving with the fluid down into his stomach where it sat for a moment, hot and uncomfortable.

There was a moment of nothing but held breath and fearful shuffling.

Then pain.

Red and crimson and burning and light. Hot and inflamed, frigid and frostbiting. Hyde couldn't fight back a scream. It tore from his throat, his vocal cords being shredded by the boiling, raging agony. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe. His throat was swollen, was full of fluid. It spilled from his lips, his nose, his eyes, his ears. Memories ran down his face in a sticky, screaming, green mess.

He collapsed to the floor, wrapping his arms around his head, trying in vain to blot out the pain that shrieked through his skull, a white hot dagger of thoughts and feelings and lost memories.

The memories dribbled and oozed in his head, confusing and comprehensible. As they trickled in rivulets through his brain, connections began to spark to life.

_A memory of dancing with Lanyon, an overlapping of two_ _occurrences_ _, one Edward, one Henry, memories superimposed on top of each other, dizzying and bewildering._

His fingernails scrabbled at his skull and his eyesight was blurred by tears of green.

 _But he’s a werewolf, Henry!_ _You know about werewolves!_ A female voice rang through his head.

_I regret telling you about Morcant, I really do._

_Can’t you do something?_

The crowd pressed forwards, their scared mutterings just white noise to Hyde.

Hyde? Was that his name?

No, it was...

_My apologies! I forgot about doing introductions!_

His name wasn't Edward Hyde. It wasn't.

How had he forgotten?

It was so clear, so obvious to him, so well known and well worn that it was unbelievable that it could ever slip from his head.

_I am.._ _._

Fingers around his memories. Not dragging himself up this time, not fighting against currents of unconsciousness and terror. This time it was his memories pulling him upward towards waking. They wrapped around him, tangling around his arms and being pulled taut.

All he had to do was to hold on to his name, his lifeline, and he would be lifted up to the light.

A shapeless something, a bundle of scraps of emotions and vague thoughts. The higher he was lifted, the more the shapeless something was pulled together. Emotions tangled and coiled into arms and legs, thoughts solidified from dripping wet sand to the beating of a heart and a flutter of breath in newly formed lungs.

At last, he could feel his body again.

He could feel his fingers and toes, twitching and alive. His fingers, pink from heat, held on more easily to his trail of memories. The rope pulled up further and the something looked back down at the darkness it had come from.

Things moved down there, watching him jealously and he knew, given the chance, they would pull him back to that all-encompassing darkness. But they couldn't anymore and he laughed at them, the giddy feeling of hope and joy swelling within him. He looked up at the light, the distant sounds of people he knew well fretting about his health.

_Not much longer._

He laughed, unable to stop the grin on his face.

_I'm coming back and nobody is going to stop me. Not even myself._

The air was cool in his lungs. It wasn't fresh air by a long shot but to him it felt like it.

Red eyes blinked.

_My name is Henry Jekyll._

He laughed again to hear it and repeated it again, relishing the way it sounded.

_You hear me? My name is Henry Jekyll and nobody will take that from me ever again!_

And this time, he knew it was the truth.

Light washed over him and, with a cough and choke of burning fluid...

Henry Jekyll finally took a breath.

  
  


The transformation wasn't pretty by any stretch of the word. Hyde screamed and clawed at himself with the ferocity of a frightened animal. Some of the lodgers tried to press forward, desperate to help Edward, but Creature held them back. They could do nothing but watch with bated breath as Hyde's arms and legs lengthened. His hair melted and shortened, the dirty blonde colouration darkening beneath his tearing fingers into brown.

Bones cracked and snapped, his body convulsing violently.

Some of the lodgers couldn't watch at all. They shut their eyes, covered their sight with their hands or plugged their ears. Some had hands over their eyes but would occasionally peep out between a crack in their fingers only to quickly go a greenish colour and look away again.

Just when it seemed like it would never end, Hyde convulsed once more and, with a hiss of breath, fell still.

...Except it wasn't Hyde anymore. The figure on the floor was much too large for Hyde, his clothes small on the newcomer. Brown hair pooled around his head, drifting in the puddles of green liquid that surrounded him.

Rachel couldn't stop a sob escaping her as she recognized the figure.

"...Henry..."

Henry Jekyll's eyes fluttered in his sleep. His chest heaved and he choked, throwing up a splash of yet more green fluid. He continued to cough, expelling the last of it from his lungs before he took a long, rattling intake of breath.

His eyes, red, opened.

There was a moment where nobody moved except Jekyll. The scientist was unsteadily pushing himself to his feet, seemingly oblivious to the crowd around him. His entire body was shaking from the exertion and he nearly collapsed several times.

Finally he stood swaying on his two feet. His eyes were unfocused, blinking rapidly, and he continued to take deep breaths, gulping down air like he hadn't taken a breath in days.

Which, in all fairness, he hadn't.

Lanyon was the first to move. He couldn't stand at the side for a second longer. He threw himself at Jekyll, wrapping his arms around his long lost friend and, unable to stop himself, began to sob.

Henry jumped a little, clearly surprised to find Lanyon clutching onto him like his life depended on it. His eyes refocused on his friend for a few seconds, blinking with new-found awareness.

Then a wetness began to pool in the corners of his eyes and, with a choking noise, Jekyll buried his head into Lanyon and began to wail, tears streaming down his face. His fingers gripped into the fabric of Lanyon's jacket, clutching the fabric and refusing to let go.

It was noisy and undignified for the two most reputable people in the room but nobody objected. They all just stood in respectful silence. The less stoic in the crowd began to cry as well, tears of joy.

"It's all right." Lanyon said, his voice strangled, unwilling to let Jekyll go ever again, "I've got you."

And then again, for good measure.

"I've got you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give your fics happy endings, you monsters. Stop making me cry.
> 
> Anyway, next chapter is the last - Got to have a conclusion after all. It might be a shorter one.


	18. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jekyll and Lanyon reflect on things.

It was a sunny day outside. Jekyll drew the curtains aside and opened the window, letting the breeze in. It was cool against his face despite the brightness of the sun.

The distant scent of baking bread and the slight tickle of someone's roses caught his nose and he inhaled deeply.

The distant swell and dip of crowds and vendors selling their wares sang in the wind, twirling and dancing and leaping. He heard a child laughing somewhere far off, their voice like a clear bell. There was a distant tinkling of wind chimes in the breeze.

He could see the greens of trees and grass, the purples and blues of the latest dresses and suits. Red ribbons on hats and the shiny gold glint of buttons in the high sun.

There was a clear blue sky ahead with no sign of coming rain.

These were small things that he had barely cared for before. Now, each sound made him want to weep with joy.

Henry rested his elbows against the window frame, drinking in the scents and sights.

Even after Hyde's first creation, he had never felt so alive before.

A twitter caught his ear and he looked up. His eyes caught a flutter of scarlet feathers, rustling in the cool air.

It was a bird, nestled in a nearby roof between roof tiles. It had bright red feathers and a high singing voice that rang clearly in the air above all other noises.

A canary. Clearly someone's escaped pet that had slipped from its cage.

He watched as the canary twittered a bit more before spreading its wings and took to the air, quickly vanishing.

Henry smiled.

"Henry?"

Jekyll turned to see Lanyon in the doorway, hesitant to enter. Robert was looking him up and down like he was a fragile vase. He examined Henry's face closely, looking for cracks.

"Sergent Brokenshire wants to question you about your disappearance." Lanyon said slowly, "I can turn him away if you're not ready to talk about it but-"

Jekyll raised a single lazy hand to cut Lanyon off.

"I've got my story in order." He pushed himself away from the window and wandered over to Lanyon with confident ease, "How do I look?"

"Honestly? You kind of look like a madman."

Jekyll laughed, catching a glimpse of his messy hair in the mirror and the dark circles beneath his eyes. "I do, don't I? But you could also argue I look like a man who was drugged and kidnapped for ransom recently."

"Shame the ransom note must have gotten lost in the mail." Lanyon replied with joking solemness.

"The poor things were clearly new at the whole kidnapping deal."

"It's a good thing you managed to slip the ropes and escape."

"And, in a drug induced haze, ran straight to your house. Real strike of luck there."

"It's unfortunate though." Lanyon tapped the side of his nose, "The kidnapping of such a widely known figure will probably be the top of the police's priority list which means they won't be able to spare anyone to look for Edward Hyde for that arson business."

"That _is_ unfortunate, isn't it? I can't imagine having such a heinous criminal still on the streets." Jekyll tutted.

The pair laughed and it felt great to do so.

The laughter drifted off to a contemplative silence as they walked. Lanyon continued to examine Jekyll's face closely. Henry let him, ignoring the annoyed mutter from Hyde in his head.

They passed a few lodgers and they stopped, turning to watch the pair. Archer smiled at Jekyll before turning to leave, cuing the others to follow along. A couple of them continued to glance over their shoulders at him. Henry gave them a warm, reassuring smile before turning back to Robert.

"...So... What was it like?" Robert finally asked quietly, "...Being erased from your own head, I mean."

"Honestly? I don't really remember. Hyde and I share memories so I remember what Hyde experienced throughout but..." Jekyll shook his head, clearing it of a sudden red haze that had settled over it. "All I really get from my _own_ memories are... Impressions. I get the impression of... Red? If that helps?" Henry looked over at Robert's concerned expression and gave him a friendly nudge, "It's probably nothing. My theory is that my entire personality as Jekyll was forgotten and, therefore, for a while I, as Jekyll, didn't really exist anymore. Therefore, there weren’t really any new memories to be had."

"But you must have existed in some sense." Lanyon insisted, "Otherwise I couldn't have brought you back."

Jekyll shrugged, "It's over now. I'm not sure I even want to remember. For now, my memories are still a little fuzzy and I would like some time to get back to myself."

Another moment of silence. Jekyll bit his lip for a while before bursting out.

"Do you think a person is still the same person if they lose all their memories?"

Lanyon gave him a long and bewildered look.

"See, memories are so important to who we are as people so, depending on the amount of memory lost, a person could end up with a completely different personality because they've lost all the experiences that make them who they are. If a criminal commits some truly heinous crimes, hits their head and forgets everything they did, can they still be held accountable to the actions of their past self? What makes a person who they are?"

Lanyon's expression was somewhat amused at Jekyll's excited ramblings. He waited for Jekyll to finish before, without hesitation, replying.

"You were still you."

Now it was Henry's turn to stare at Lanyon.

"You may have forgotten who you were but... In some ways you still acted like you. It's something I noticed several times but I never really gave it much thought. Hyde was your assistant – he could have picked up some traits from you. So that's what I ended up telling myself." Robert sighed, amusement suddenly lost. His eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet Jekyll's gaze. "I'm... I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner. I've known you for years and yet I couldn't recognize you, even after spending ages stuck in a house with you."

"Well I wasn't exactly the same." Jekyll laughed awkwardly, "Besides, it _was_ pretty crazy. You would have had to be a hardcore conspiracy theorist to figure it out."

Another long silence and Henry could practically feel Robert's guilt in the air. There was little he could say that would ease Lanyon's worries at that time but he would be there for his friend.

For all everyone was fussing over his feelings, Jekyll knew in his heart that he was the one who had gotten out of the situation easiest.

He could see it in the guilty looks that the lodgers gave him, the way everyone treated him with care or respect while Jekyll himself felt almost nothing but dull curiosity over everything that had happened. Everyone went out of their way to say hi or chat or ask if he was ok. The braver of them would even make the occasional morbid joke about it.

Rachel was constantly inquiring into Edward's health, much to his alter ego's annoyance. She kept fussing over injuries that Edward had left on Henry that he had refused to let Rachel treat before. Jekyll insisted that he was a doctor and, therefore, equipped to deal with a few scratches but Rachel, like a stubborn mother hen, forced him to sit down while she examined them.

Like everyone else, she was curious about just how Edward Hyde worked. Many of the lodgers didn't dare breach those questions as though they were taboo but Rachel was the most open about it. She wanted to know everything. How Edward Hyde felt about her, whether he was safe, if he could take control of Jekyll without the potion. She wanted to know it all and Jekyll was, to his own surprise, happy to oblige.

It was peculiar to talk so openly about it after years of secrecy but also somewhat relieving. He hadn't quite understood up until that point how much he had been dying to just talk to someone else about it – to get advice, to rant about Edward... And to just be assured that nobody saw him as some sort of... Monster.

Maybe that was the weirdest part. He had been so convinced that everyone would see him as some kind of monster and, yet, it didn't seem to bother them for a second. Shocking, sure, but not horrifying. Not... Rotten.

Frankenstein was a little nicer to him too, although there was still the occasional quip at his expense. At least she was a lot more open to treatment and Jekyll judged by his medical expertise that she would be fit to leave in just a week or two. He would almost feel bad to see her go.

He smiled, thinking of how much trouble she had been.

Yep. He would _almost_ feel bad. Almost but not quite.

There was little to no lasting damage to Jekyll's psyche thanks to his amnesia. Sure, transforming in the future would, for a while, always have an undercurrent of fear to it but everyone knew the truth now. If something went wrong again, he had an entire society's worth of people willing to bring him back to himself.

No, Jekyll wasn't the one who would be needing emotional support this time. It was everyone else.

This time he could say with certainty that he would be there for all of them no matter what.

It was the least he could do given what he had done to them.

"I think," Jekyll said seriously, "I think Edward Hyde has learned how to keep out of sight either way. I suppose I can thank Rachel for that one later."

"I can't believe he couldn't before considering how little I ever saw him." A pause. Lanyon gave Jekyll a long and hard look. "...You know... I could have sworn he was avoiding me..."

"...Uh... I..." Henry stuttered, his eyes flicking about for a change of subject before his eyes alighted on a figure sat at a table ahead, "Hey! look, there's Brokenshire!"

The policeman looked up as the pair entered. He had been chatting quite amiably with Rachel but his face grew more grave and sympathetic as Jekyll entered. He lacked his usual gruffness and Jekyll felt somewhat bad for deceiving him.

Rachel poured a cup of tea for the pair of them as they sat down to talk.

As Jekyll took his teacup, he saw the canary again out the window. It was flying off, quickly becoming a red silhouette against the sun.

  
  


He took a long sip of his tea and, a smile playing at the corner of his lips, began to recount his tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Kicks open door*  
> ...So...  
> I actually finished a fic for once in my life. Hooray for me. And now time to never manage it again.
> 
> Obviously as things change in the actual comic, this fic will probably become outdated. Maybe I'll go back over it at some point and change up a few things that I don't like or don't work. _Maybe._  
>  With this out of the way, I would _like_ to say that I'll get back to working on other things I've neglected but that might be too much to hope for.
> 
> Since this is my last chance to say things: I kept bringing up the fact that Jekyll didn't remember Lanyon's name because I planned for a scene where Edward refers to him as Hastie - Aka, the name that Lanyon never gets called by anyone and therefore Edward can't know about. I couldn't really fit the scene in so it got ditched.  
> I feel like there was more I wanted to say but I can't remember what else I wanted to say. So...
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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